


a mental archive of love unwanted

by chevythunder



Series: before, during and after [1]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 71,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chevythunder/pseuds/chevythunder
Summary: “You’re in love with him,” Isak says. “And he doesn’t know.”He thinks about denying it, to shrug it off like he has so many times before, but in the end, he’s too tired to lie and the fact is, he doesn’t want to.“I’m in love with him,” Even says, slumping back into the sofa. “And he doesn’t know.”Even moves into a new flat, gains new friends and tries not to have his heart broken. He nails the first two.





	1. moving day

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally post a skam fic, and an au at that. Many thanks to the brilliant [tess](http://modertheresa.tumblr.com) for beta-ing.

The morning is chilly but sunny, the front door is wide open and Even is moving for the first time in his life. 

His mum is busy packing up the last of his clothes and his dad is off packing some things in the car. His new place is only a couple of minutes away by bus but it’s still a big thing to do, a thing that’s making him feel old and very young at the same time, not wanting to leave the safety of his parents' flat behind.

“Would you mind helping me with this?” his mum asks.

Even tears himself away from the window and gets back into his room. His old room, from now on. His mum is struggling to shut the suitcase she’s been shoving clothes into and he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“Don’t just stand there, hop on,” she says, gesturing towards the case. He walks over, dutifully sitting down on top of it.

“Better?”

“Yeah, just gonna get the zipper all the way around…” His mum stands up, holding her hand out for a high-five. “Yes! Teamwork.”

Even catches hold of her hand and swings it a little as he looks around the room. All his posters and drawings have been taken down, his bed stripped bare and his closet empty. If someone were to walk in for the first time and look around, they would have no idea who it was that used to live here, who had grown up here, who had formed their entire sense of self in this very room.

The thought of being erased so easily makes Even feel unsettled. He turns to his mum. “I can still come back sometimes, right?”

She smiles at him, “You can come back any time you want.”

It’s a little easier walking out the door after that.

 

He went to look at the room alone the first time, so his parents have no idea what to expect when they arrive at his new flat. Both of his new flatmates, Isak and Linn, are waiting for them on the pavement, Linn in sweats and Isak in pyjama pants and a worn-out hoodie.

“Good morning,” his dad says as soon as he gets out the car, Even’s mum following closely behind.

Even tries to get ahead of them, but his mum is already shaking hands with Linn when he gets there, and Isak is talking about the best approach to getting all the stuff up to the flat without the use of an elevator.

“Hi,” Even breathes out when he’s close enough.

Isak smiles at him. “Hi, how are you?”

“Good, good. Hi Linn,” he says, waving at her.

She nods in greeting, before turning to the car. “Is that it?”

“Yes, all Even’s earthly belongings,” his dad says grandly. “For such a tall person, his possessions are very small.”

“Oh my god,” Even mutters under his breath. “Lets go.”

“Hang on,” Isak says, digging around his pocket until he triumphantly comes up with a key, holding it out to Even. “There you go.”

Even takes it, with a small smile. “Thanks.” Adulthood feels suspiciously light when he weighs it in his hand.

 

All in all it’s a pain free experience, getting his life moved a couple of streets over. They’re done just after noon, so his parents insist on taking them all out for lunch. Isak disappears to get changed but Linn remains in her sweats, not caring about appearances. Even likes that about her.

They end up at a Greek place just down the street, snatching one of the only open tables. The food is good but the intense conversation between Isak and Even’s dad is a little worrying, especially considering the fact that his dad has no filter and Even can't quite make out what they're saying. His mum seems unfazed though, which probably means it’s nothing to worry about.

 

He hugs his mum and dad goodbye outside of the apartment building, clinging a little longer than usual. His mum is a little teary when they drive off, and Even looks after them until the car disappears from view.

He sprints up the stairs and almost falls on his face when he tries to open the door.

“It’s locked,” Isak says from inside.

“Um, yeah, are you gonna open it?” Even asks before realizing Isak’s point. “Oh, right, never mind.”

He picks up his key and unlocks the door.

Isak is standing right inside, leaning against the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand. “Nice,” he says when Even comes in.

Even laughs. “Very nice.”

 

The rest of the day is spent unpacking the majority of his stuff, sorting out which clothes goes in the closet and which ones go in his chest of drawers, making his bed and tacking some pictures to the wall. His phone is constantly going off with messages from the guys, but he manages to convince them not to wait for him but to go on out on their own. He wants to spend the night in his room alone, enjoying the fact that he can go wherever he wants but choosing to stay right where he is.

A thrill goes through him when Mikael sends ten selfies in a row, pouting over Even's decision. He still doesn’t know if he’s just reading into it or if it’s really something going on under the surface of their friendship, but he’s desperately hoping he's not made it all up. 

Even falls asleep to the unknown sounds of cars going by outside, the faint sound of Isak’s music coming through the wall and the occasional beep from the refrigerator. He sleeps better than he has in months.

 

*

 

A few days later, Even walks into the kitchen to find an array of boys occupying every available space. There’s one sprawled on two chairs, one sitting on the counter, one tucked up on the windowsill and Isak slumped over the table, looking half-asleep.

“Morning,” Even says, instantly getting four pairs of eyes trained on him.

“Hi!” The guy sitting on the chairs jumps up and extends a hand. “I’m Magnus, Isak’s best friend.”

“No,” Isak says, head gone back to rest on his folded arms. He looks up long enough to see how Magnus is still enthusiastically shaking Even’s hand before turning to the guy on the counter. “Jonas,” he whines.

The guy rolls his eyes before giving Even a wave. “I’m Jonas, the actual best friend.”

Isak makes a pleased noise.

The guy in the windowsill gives Even a nod. “Mahdi.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Even says. “I’m Even, the new Eskild.”

“No,” Isak says.

“Stop harshing the vibe, Isak,” Magnus says. “He’s hung-over,” he adds for Even’s benefit.

“Oh,” Even says, taking in Isak’s appearance with this new information in mind. He does look quite ashen, his clothes rumpled as if slept in and his breaths heavy enough to almost be snores. “How come you guys aren’t?”

“We’re not stupid enough to mix wine and vodka,” Jonas says.

“Seriously man, I thought you dropped that whole sad and wasted thing when you came out,” Magnus says. “Aren’t gay guys supposed to be happy?”

Considering how bad Isak looks at the moment, Even is rather impressed that he manages to hold his head up long enough to stare Magnus down until Magnus holds his hands up in apology. “Alright, bro. Damn.”

Mahdi snickers and Jonas throws a grin to Isak before going back to his phone. Even wants to know them better.

“Do you want some food?” he asks, opening the fridge. “Isak?”

Isak groans. “Hate food. Hate everything.”

“You don’t hate Jonas,” Magnus says.

Isak is quiet for a moment. “Fine,” he says. “Not Jonas. Or Even. Or Mahdi. Everything else, I hate.”

Magnus gasps dramatically. “Not cool. See if I’ll ever hook you up again.”

“When did you hook him up?” Mahdi asks.

“That time with that guy in the shop, remember?” Magnus says. “Totally got him interested.”

“He was out shopping with his girlfriend,” Mahdi says, shaking his head. “Sometimes I wonder how you don’t fall over more often.”

Magnus pouts enough for Even to take pity on him. “Magnus, do you want some food?”

He immediately lights up. “Yeah, I’m starving. Do you have any coco pops? Or pancakes? Or a banana?”

Even points to the fruit bowl next to Jonas which ever since Even moved in has been regularly stocked and looked after. He’s managed to coax both Isak and Linn into eating at least one piece of fruit a day, even though it seems like a struggle for both of them.

“Sweet,” Magnus says, jumping up to grab one.

Jonas tucks his phone away and starts peeling an orange, lobbying an apple Mahdi’s way. “Thanks, Even, appreciate it,” Jonas says.

“No problem. Did you at least have a good enough night to justify the, um…” he waves a hand in Isak’s general direction, “the consequences?”

“Yeah, it was alright,” Jonas says. “Would have been better if we hadn’t been thrown out, but still.”

“You got thrown out?” Even says, turning to face Jonas fully. He’s in the middle of fixing his usual coffee and granola-breakfast, but it can wait. “How?”

“Isak got wasted and Magnus got loud,” Jonas shrugs. “It’s not the first time.”

“Sorry,” Isak says, muffled by the fabric of the hood he’s now pulled fully over his head. “They were free.”

“The drinks,” Mahdi clarifies. “Fucker always manages to get someone else to pay for his booze.”

“Right,” Even says, grabbing his bowl and coffee mug, settling down in the chair next to Isak’s.

“It’s the hair, I think,” Magnus says. “Makes him look all gullible.”

“How would that help with the drinks?” Jonas asks, “And please don’t say that it makes him seem easier to trick into a hook up.”

Magnus looks between Jonas and Even. “I mean, kinda?”

“It has to be something like that cause it sure as hell isn’t because of his face,” Mahdi says, already smiling before Isak’s middle finger shoots up.

“Fuck you, I’m pretty,” Isak grumbles.

Even reaches over to pat his head. “You’re also very hung-over.” He pushes his mug in front of Isak, who seems to perk up a little at the smell. “Drink up.”

Isak shifts to rest his head in one of his hands, other one clutching the cup tightly, taking a first sip. He gives a happy sigh. “’S good.”

Even smiles. “I’ll make you some breakfast later.”

“Thanks,” Isak says before being interrupted by Magnus asking Jonas to play some music and falling into a debate on whether or not Eurotechno should still be allowed early in the morning, or any part of the day, ever.

Even leans back and scopes out the different stand points before he puts himself on Jonas’ side. He earns a fist bump and a smile from Isak, feeling his flatmate rating jump up a few points.

 

*

 

He’s only got one early class that week and it’s a good one, focused on the era of silent films and what one can learn from the kind of cinematography and directing techniques used in them.

When he walks out and turns his phone back on, still deep in a discussion about the lecture, he’s met with a barrage of texts from his group chat with the guys. He waves goodbye to his course mates and scrolls through the messages. The consensus reached about half-an-hour ago seems to be that everyone is going to meet up at Elias’ after lunch.

Even goes home do drop off his books, putting a little extra effort in reshaping his hair and changing into a tighter shirt, hoping that it’ll make a difference, spark something in Mikael that hasn’t been there before.

He listens to deLillos on the way over, tapping his fingers to the beat as he watches people milling around the streets from the bus window. Just as he gets ready to get off the bus, a head of blonde hair passing him by on the street catches his eye.

“Isak!” He calls as soon as he steps onto the pavement, waving when Isak turns around.

“Hey,” Isak says, waiting for Even to catch up. There’s someone standing next to him, and Even doesn’t recognise her until she turns around.

“Sana!” Even says.

“Hi,” Sana says, smiling at him.

“You know each other?” Isak asks.

“Yeah. _You_ know each other?” Even says, looking between them.

“No, I just like random people following me home,” Sana says. “Just to spice things up.”

“Right,” Even says. “Gives your every day life some extra excitement.”

“Usually, yeah. Not with this one though,” Sana says, nodding towards Isak who immediately scrunches his nose up.

“Rude. See if I ever help you with studying again.”

“When have you ever?” Sana asks, smiling innocently.

Isak huffs, but he can’t quite hide his smile. “But seriously, how do you know each other? You didn’t go to Nissen.”

“I’ve been friends with her brother since kindergarten,” Even says.

“Huh,” Isak says. “I didn’t know that.”

“Are you on your way to mine?” Sana asks.

“Yeah, the guys are there,” Even says.

Sana rolls her eyes. “Of course they are.” She turns to Isak, “I’ll just walk with Even, you’re off the hook.”

“Just for the record, I was never on the hook,” Isak says, “but alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives Sana a salute before holding his hand out for a high-five from Even. Even follows through, catching his hand before Isak can pull back. “Don’t get into any trouble on your way home,” he says in his best parenting voice.

“Oh my god,” Isak says. “Let go of my hand, you nerd.”

Even squeezes it once before letting Isak’s hand drop, feeling Sana growing impatient next to him. “See you later.”

“Bye,” Isak says before walking off, a spring in his step.

Even turns to give Sana a smile. She looks contemplative for a moment, searching his face for something, before getting back to her regular poker face. “Let’s go.”

They walk the familiar streets from the bus stop to the Bakkoush's flat, spending the first minute in silence.

“So, you’ve been studying?” Even asks, curious of Sana and Isak’s relationship.

Sana nods. “We have a couple of science classes together. He’s an alright partner.”

“Not that impressed, huh,” Even says.

Sana narrows her eyes at him. “If I admit that he’s useful to have around, are you gonna blab?”

“I’d never.”

“Good,” Sana says and, after a beat. “He’s useful to have around. Nice brain and all.”

Even laughs, “Glowing praise.”

“Yeah, well, I’m very generous,” Sana says, but there seems to be something a little off about her demeanour, her smiles not coming as easily as they usually do.

He knows she’s not one for opening up, and probably even less likely to do so with him, who’s an acquaintance at worst and pseudo-friend at best. He still doesn’t like the thought of letting it go completely. “He’s easy to talk to,” Even says as he holds the door open for Sana. “Isak, I mean. Good listener.”

Sana pauses in the doorway, scrutinizing look on her face. “Okay,” she says cautiously.

Even decides not to push it. “Just saying.” He gives a shrug, lightly touching her shoulder to get her to start moving again.

She complies, and they walk up the stairs in silence. When they’ve kicked off their shoes inside the flat, she gives him a nod before disappearing into her room.

 

*

 

After a few weeks of living in the flat, Even still hasn’t found time to properly bond with Linn. Him and Isak have spent nights in front of the TV, playing video games in Isak's room and spent afternoons listening to music while working on separate school projects in the kitchen. Linn isn’t home that much and when she is, she prefers to stay in her room.

When he bumps into her in the hallway, Even decides this to be the first step in rectifying their non-existent relationship.

“Are you going out?” he asks, gesturing towards her tote bag.

“Getting groceries,” Linn says.

“Oh, great, can I come with?” Even smiles, “I have nothing and I hate shopping alone.”

Linn shrugs. “Sure.”

Even tosses his gym bag back into his room and sends off a quick text to Adam saying he won’t make it to their usual Tuesday work out session. Checking that he's got his keys and wallet, he jogs to the front door where Linn’s waiting.

“Let’s go.”

 

The walk to the store is mostly silent, Even trying to start up a conversation but mostly getting one-word answers back. When they get there, Even insists on getting a cart and trails Linn through the aisles.

“Do you ever have dinner together, as a flatmate thing?” he asks. “I like to cook, but it’s no fun doing it just for myself.”

“Not really,” Linn says.

“Maybe we should start,” Even says. “I’ll get stuff for a few meals and then, if we like it, we can split the cost for next week.”

“Okay.” Linn stops in front of the pasta section. She seems to be mulling something over for a second before turning to Even. “I like lasagne,” she says, more of a question than a statement.

Even smiles. “I can do that.”

Linn picks up a packet of lasagne sheets, putting it in the cart.

“Isak won’t eat it, though,” she says. “He never has proper meals.”

 

Two days later, Isak finishes his second helping of lasagne and Even wriggles his eyebrows at Linn. She rolls her eyes, but she can’t quite fight her smile.

Joint dinners are a common thing after that.

 

*

 

“When are you having your moving in party?” Mikael asks. 

They’re all on their way home from the cinema, two hours of a mediocre action film behind them.

“Yeah, where’s our invite?” Adam asks. “I feel unloved.”

“I don’t even know if I’m having one,” Even says, holding up his hand to stop the influx of protests coming his way. “I have to check with Isak and Linn first.”

“We have to celebrate you going solo!” Mikael says, “I’m sure they won’t mind, here, let me talk to them.” He reaches over to try and grab Even’s phone from his jacket pocket, Even catching his hands.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near my phone,” Even says, struggling to keep his hold on Mikael.

“Why, do you have a lot of porn on there? Come on Ev, we’re all grown ups,” Mikael says, managing to get one hand free and immediately starts digging into Even’s pocket. “Well, except for Mutta,” he adds, laughing when Mutta shoves his shoulder.

“I was gonna help you, man,” Mutta says. “I’m switching teams now, I’ve got your back,” he says to Even, winding an arm around Mikael’s waist and lifting him up.

Mikael kicks his feet in the air, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle out of Mutta's grip. “Unfair! Elias, help me!”

Elias looks over from his conversation with Adam, pursing his lips as he takes in the scene. “Nah,” he says, shaking his head before turning back to his chat.

Mutta puts Mikael down on the other side of him, moving closer to Even to effectively flank him from any further phone-stealing attempts. “Don’t mess with the force,” he says as he links his arm with Even’s.

“That’s not how the force works,” Even and Mikael says simultaneously. Mikael beams and runs around them so that he comes up on Even’s other side. Even can’t help but pull him in with an arm around his shoulder.

“Can we please have a party though?” Mikael says, his voice low enough for only Even to hear. “I want to meet them.”

Even melts immediately and caves without a second thought. “Yeah,” he says. “We can have a party.”

 

*

 

Talking Linn and Isak into hosting all his friends is surprisingly easy. Linn’s only demand is that her room is strictly off limits for everyone and that no one will be mad if she decides to skip the party last minute. 

“Of course not, that’s totally up to you,” Even says, nudging Isak into agreeing.

“Sure,” Isak says, “hey, can you get me some beer, though?”

Linn glares at him. “Get your own.”

“I can’t yet, you know I have a few months to go,” Isak whines. “Please, Linn? I’ll do your dishes for a week.”

“No you won’t.”

“Fair,” Isak says. “Five days? Three? One. I’ll do them for one day.”

Even raises his hand, waving it about a little until they both stop to look at him. “I’ll get it for you, I need to get some for myself anyway.”

Isak lights up, high-fives Even’s still raised hand. “Great. I’ll send you the money.” Isak’s phone vibrates and he checks it. “Um, could you get some vodka as well? And rum. And… what the fuck,” he frowns and types in something before chucking his phone away. “Nevermind.”

“Magnus?” Linn asks.

“Yeah,” Isak says. “No way I’m getting him alco-pops, jesus.”

Even snorts. “I like him.”

“Please don’t,” Isak says.

 

*

 

There are already people covering almost every inch of the flat when Even’s boys arrive. He’s on his third beer and has no qualms roping them all into a massive group hug, maybe spending a bit too long running a hand up and down Mikael’s back. 

After directing them towards the kitchen, he searches through the crowd to find his flatmates. Linn is on the couch talking to a girl in a sequin dress but Isak is nowhere to be seen. Even works his way over to Linn, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Have you seen Isak?”

“He’s probably smoking in the bathroom,” Linn says.

“Alright,” Even says, “Hey, there’s some people I want you to meet later, you up for it?”

Linn shrugs. “Okay.”

“Great!” Even beams at her before setting out for the bathroom.

The smell hits him as soon as he walks through the door and he’s thrown back to the multiple occasions he’s been in the same situation Isak’s in right now, before he took his doctor’s advice a bit more seriously and cut down his smoking significantly.

“Close the door,” Jonas yells as soon as he enters.

Even obeys immediately, poking his head round the shower curtain to take stock of the people sitting in the bathtub.

“It’s Even!” Magnus shouts, making Mahdi wince at the volume.

“Hey man,” Jonas nods. “What’s up?”

“Hi Even,” Isak says, dragging his name out. He looks adorable with his pink cheeks and snapback close to falling off.

“Hello,” Even says, smiling down at them. “Good night?”

“Excellent,” Magnus says. “Really appreciate the Baccardi Breezer’s man, legend.”

“Good,” Even says, ignoring Isak’s offended huff.

“How’s your night? You being the guest of honour and all,” Mahdi says, holding out the bong to him.

Even declines the offer, sits down on the edge of the tub next to Jonas. “It’s alright. Better now, actually, cause my friends just got here.” At Magnus hurt expression, Even corrects himself. “My other friends.”

“Your squad?” Jonas asks.

“Exactly. They want to meet Isak, so I’m here to steal him,” Even says, poking Isak’s leg.

“Really?” Isak asks.

“Yeah,” Even says. “They’re curious about my flatmates, Linn’s downstairs waiting.”

“Oh,” Isak says, taking another hit. “Alright, lead the way.”

He clumsily manages to get out of the tub, swaying a little when he stands up. “Shit.”

Even holds a hand out, ready to grab onto him if he starts falling, but Isak finds his ground and smiles at him. “Best balance ever,” Isak says. 

Jonas groans. “Get out of here, you smug fuck.”

Isak gives him the finger.

 

Even waves Linn over as they come back into the living room, and her and Isak trail him out to the kitchen. The guys are still in there, deep in discussion about whether or not 17th of May is worth celebrating. 

“Oi,” Even says, immediately pulling their attention.

“Hey, where did you go off to?” Elias asks.

“I brought some people,” Even says, gesturing behind him. “This is Isak and Linn, and this is Elias, Mutta, Adam, Yousef and Mikael.” He points to them in turn and before he’s finished speaking, his flatmates are surrounded by outstretched hands and eager greetings.

Linn, somewhat awkwardly, shakes hands with them all, giving them polite hellos. Isak is a little more open, probably because of the weed, and he’s quickly pulled into a conversation with Adam and Mutta.

“They seem nice,” Mikael says, appearing next to Even, their sides pressing together.

“Yeah,” Even says, resting an arm on the counter behind Mikael, so it’s almost as if he’s holding his waist. He can so easily picture it, standing among their best friends as a couple, the way him and Mikael could be the same as always and yet a whole lot more without much needing to change.

They could host parties together maybe, Mikael greeting the guests while Even makes sure everyone has a drink and is having a good time. The thought of it makes Even grow braver, and he moves his hand to brush along Mikael’s hip, the sliver of skin where his hoodie’s ridden up, holding his breath for Mikael’s reaction.

Mikael doesn’t even seem to notice the touch. That somehow feels worse than if he’d moved away in disgust.

When Even looks back up from where he’s had his eyes fixed on the floor, he meets Isak’s. He’s looking at Mikael and then back to Even, raising an eyebrow. Even shakes his head quickly, not wanting Isak to get the wrong idea.

Isak looks thoughtful but is dragged along into the living room by Adam, who’s aiming to take charge of the music. One by one, the guys drop off until it’s just Even, Mikael and a couple of girls left in the room. The girls seem more into each other than in any one of them, so Even focuses fully on Mikael instead.

“Did you find a drink?”

“Yep. Stole one from the fridge,” Mikael says, holding up a can of alcohol free beer.

“That’s what they’re there for,” Even says. “I bought them for you.”

Mikael had a period of time where he drank beer at every party they went to, guilt wrecking him the next day, so Even’s made it a habit to always have alternatives for him, and the rest of the guys, ready to go. It seems a good compromise, since Mikael once told him that he feels like a child around drunk people when he only has a soda in his hand but not really wanting to drink anything stronger. Sometimes, Mutta or Elias will take one but for the most part, they’re all for Mikael.

“I know. Thank you,” Mikael says, leaning more heavily against him.

They get into a conversation with some of the people filtering in and out of the room, Mikael never leaving his side and Even not wanting him to. It feels like something, like this is the night things will change.

It’s not.

“Oh, shit Even, that’s her,” Mikael whispers suddenly, right into his ear.

“Who?” Even asks, already dreading the answer.

“The girl from the party that time, remember?”

Unfortunately, Even does. The memory of Mikael spending an entire evening with a very pretty blonde girl, ending the night by disappearing into an empty bedroom and coming out with swollen lips and ruffled hair, still hurts.

Apparently that girl, the same one now standing in Even’s hallway, was the best kisser Mikael’s ever had. Even’s not petty, but he can’t help but look at her with nothing but contempt, judging her laugh and the way she tosses her hair.

Mikael nudges him and Even realises he still hasn’t answered his question. “Not really,” Even says.

“Worst wingman ever,” Mikael says, sighing. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Okay,” Even says, but Mikael’s already gone.

 

Even spends a few hours getting drunker than he intended, having another sip every time he catches sight of Mikael laughing, Mikael smiling, Mikael flirting. They don’t even speak for the rest of the night, so caught up is Mikael with his girl. Even feels a sharp spike in his chest every time he sees them, but is still unable to walk away, to shield himself from the sight.

Isak comes over every now and then, pressing a glass of water into his hand and holding his drink hostage until he finishes it. Even’s pretty sure Isak knows who he’s been staring at for most of the night, but he’s too drunk to care. He spends some time talking to Mutta, his presence always calming him down but before too long, he looks over at Mikael again and the whole thing is ruined.

He escapes into the bathroom, now devoid of any teenage boys but still carrying the smell of their weed, looking himself in the mirror with the eyes of an outsider. He mostly looks pathetic, his eyes a little red-rimmed and his mouth stupidly hanging open.

He turns on the water and runs it ice cold over his wrists, taking away his drunkenness a little. He splashes his face and neck enough for his cheek to feel a little numb, looking up to find his eyes a little clearer than before.

He walks out to a party that’s winding down and a best friend that’s nowhere to be found. He hugs the rest of the guys goodbye and is careful not to ask any questions.

 

When the last stragglers have left and Linn have gone to sleep in her room, Isak sits down next to Even on the sofa, handing him a soda. 

“Thanks,” Even says, dragging a nail down the label, trying to scrape it off.

Isak nods, taking a sip from his own bottle. “So.”

“So,” Even says.

“Did you like the party?” Isak asks.

“Most of it,” Even says, trying to block everything after his last conversation with Mikael from his mind, concentrating on the feeling of having him pressed against him, his warm skin under Even’s hand.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Isak says softly, shifting a little in his seat, “And I know we don’t really know each other that well, but…”

Even turns to him, looking at him properly for what feels like the first time. He traces Isak’s profile with his eyes, taking note of the curve of his jaw, the restless movements of his hands. Isak turns to him and they look at each other for a beat.

Even turns away. “Just say it.”

“You’re in love with him,” Isak says. “And he doesn’t know.”

He thinks about denying it, to shrug it off like he has so many times before, but in the end, he’s too tired to lie and the fact is, he doesn’t want to.

“I’m in love with him,” Even says, slumping back into the sofa. “And he doesn’t know.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud. There’s relief in actually hearing the words, but there’s also a familiar clump of fear in his throat. He can’t know for sure how Isak’s going to react to this, if he's going to judge Even for living the ultimate cliché, falling for his supposedly straight best friend.

Even should have known by now not to underestimate him.

Isak shuffles closer, a hand reaching out, to pat his arm a little. A few somewhat awkward seconds passes before Even relaxes into the touch, his head landing on Isak’s shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” Isak says.

Even appreciates the reassurance, but he’s fairly sure Isak’s wrong about this. “He’s never going to love me back,” Even says. “He doesn’t want me.”

Isak’s quiet for a moment. “Maybe that’s not the point,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Isak says, “All love stories can’t be good, right? They don’t always end happily. Maybe this is one of those.”

Even contemplates this, feeling his stomach protest at the notion. “But I want it to end happily,” he says, burrowing further into the cushions.

“I know,” Isak says.

The shadows grow darker as they sit there, perfectly still in the quiet living room and eventually, Even falls asleep.

He wakes up to a pillow under his head and a blanket tucked around him.

 

*

 

Even takes a walk around the park the next morning, trying to find beauty in things not shaped like Mikael. The flowers are just starting to bloom, the grass smells lovely where it’s been freshly cut and people seem to be collectively enjoying their day. 

He can’t help but hate them a little.


	2. ducks and dick moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hearts do break around here.

 

Elias texts him halfway through his morning class, a message filled with emojis and exclamation points. Even rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile as he sends two purple hearts and a pumpkin back.

Next thing he knows, all the boys are attacking him on the group chat for not sending them enough hearts.

_did you just brag about getting hearts from me?_

Elias replies within seconds. _I always brag abt hearts man, they’re like pokemons. Gonna catch em allllllll._

Even answers with a row of exasperated smileys. It doesn’t seem like such a big deal after that, sending hearts to all the boys. He tries to ignore the way his heart speeds up when Mikael sends a red one back.

 

*

 

Even gets home to Linn and Isak attempting to work together in the kitchen. He leans in the doorway for a minute, trying not to laugh at their somewhat chaotic approach to making pancakes.

“I’ve done this before, Linn, I know what I’m doing,” Isak says, using his exasperated voice that always comes out when he needs to prove his prowess in something. Even’s become very fond of that voice.

“I know how to make pancakes too, it’s not that difficult,” Linn says, spatula pointed at Isak like a sword.

“Pfft,” Isak says before grabbing it from her hand and, quite expertly, flipping the pancake. “Fuck, it’s burnt. That’s it, you whip the cream, I’ll do the rest of them.”

“Fine,” Linn says, before turning and taking note of Even’s presence. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Even smiles.

Isak waves with the spatula, focused on pouring the right amount of batter into the pan. “Hi Even, please tell Linn to not bother me.”

“I was told to tell you not to bother Isak,” Even dutifully says to Linn. “Although, we both know that you’re probably better at flipping them.”

“Thank you,” Linn says. “At least one of you gets it.”

Isak narrows his eyes at Even. “Your share just went down from four to three, just so you know. This is the only thing I know how to cook, and I will not have anyone disrespecting my masterpieces.“

Even walks over to start setting the table. “That’s alright, I already ate.”

“When?” Isak asks.

“Before,” Even says vaguely, a white lie as he doesn't want to intrude on Isak and Linn's dinner.

Based on the way Isak piles Even’s plate higher than he threatened to, Isak probably sees right through him. Even smiles at him in thanks, and Isak smiles back before making a toast with their water.

“Pancake pals.”

“Pancake pals,” Even says, grandly clinking their glasses together.

Linn does the same, a little bit too late and with more disinterest in her voice. Even couldn’t have found better roommates if he tried.

 

After the dishes have been taken care of, Even can feel his good mood quickly fading, and wants nothing more than to lie down and wallow about how he hasn’t heard from Mikael outside of a few messages since the party. He shuts the door behind him, having already dodged questions about a movie night from Isak, and pulls down the blinds. 

He gets an hour of solitude before there’s a knock on his door.

“Do you want anything?” Isak’s voice sound quiet but still way too loud for Even to handle.

“No,” he says, not having the energy to consider how rude he sounds. Isak already knows what’s wrong, he can’t be that offended by someone going through heartache, surely.

“But I- Um. Okay,” Isak says. It takes almost a full minute before Even hears him move away from the door.

Even closes his eyes again and tries to go over all the ways acting on his feelings is a terrible idea.

 

* 

 

The rest of the week passes by quick enough, even though the days drag on. Even knows that the guys can tell something’s up, but they’re good enough friends for them not to push it. Their group text becomes a place for stupid memes and voice messages that doesn’t make sense, and Even knows it’s solely for the purpose of making him smile. 

The fact that they’re so willing to help him out of his funk without even knowing what caused it makes the tight feeling in his chest loosen somewhat and Even starts to think that maybe, it’s just incredibly intense feelings of friendship he has towards Mikael and whatever happens, it’s going to be fine.

After Sunday, he doesn’t think that anymore.

 

The day starts off as pretty much all Sundays have since he moved in, Linn is up in the early morning hours to grab a snack and then disappear into her room until late afternoon, Isak sleeps until ten, which is when he gets up and turns on the telly to watch a double episode of The Simpsons. After that’s over and Isak’s finished two bowls of cereal, he’ll take a nap on the couch and not be coherent until Linn comes out and starts moving around in the kitchen a couple of hours later.

Even has carved out a place of his own within this routine, he gets up when he hears Linn to make her and himself a cup of tea, because he doesn’t want her to drink soda that early in the morning, which is what she used to do, and after she's gone back to bed he’ll scroll through the news sites on his phone. At eight thirty sharp, his mum will call for a weekly check in, and they’ll chat until Isak starts stirring.

Even’s favourite part about the day is when he joins Isak on the couch, Isak sleepy enough to instantly slump down next to Even when he’s usually so restrained with physical contact. Without seeming to even realize it, Isak always ends up lying with one half of his body pressed in between Even’s back and the couch, his face burrowed into Even’s shoulder. Even doesn’t really know the point of turning the TV on since Isak can barely see it anyway, but he doesn’t protest, revelling in the warmth Isak provides.

Sometimes, a few drops of milk will escape from Isak’s spoon and fall down the back of Even’s t-shirt. The first time it happened, Even had shouted at him, annoyed at having had a newly washed shirt ruined. The look on Isak’s face as he completely shut down, paired with the fact that the next few Sundays had a distinct lack of Isak in the living room, had made Even more miserable than he cared to think about.

Therefore, Even now always makes sure to save his oldest shirt for Sunday morning, the one he used to wear when painting. It doesn’t matter how much Isak spills on that one, and he made sure to tell Isak that the second he stepped out from his room after that first time, looking quite spooked when he saw Even on the couch.

All in all, Sundays have now become one of Even’s best days, regardless of how the rest of the week has gone. His family and friends are well aware not to invite him to things before noon on Sundays, and both Isak and Linn seem happy with his role in their joint weekend.

 

This particular Sunday, Even gets ready to head over to Adam’s after Isak’s drifted off on the sofa. As a sign of his good mood, he makes sure to dress up a little, wears an actual button up instead of a sweatshirt, and jumps, quite literally, into his tightest jeans.

When he approaches the house, he can hear Elias’ and Mutta’s voices ahead of him. Weaving between a couple with a stroller and an old lady with a tiny dog, he slaps them both on the back.

“What’s happening, boys?”

“You’re looking sharp man, who’re you trying to impress?” Elias asks.

“Be nice to him,” Mutta says, “this is how his people dresses for church. Was it a nice service? Did you talk to your boy J?”

Even snorts, hooking an arm around Mutta’s shoulder.

“Shut up, I can’t wear a shirt without getting heckled?”

Elias and Mutta both fake deep contemplation for a moment, before simultaneously shaking their heads.

“Nope,” Elias says.

“You really can’t,” Mutta says. “There’s a rule book and everything.”

“Really? No one’s shown me that,” Even says. “I’ve been around for years, that’s not fair.”

“Most of us were initiated at birth, but you missed it,” Elias grins as they turn the last corner to Adam’s building. “We’ll do the rite and everything, just you wait. You’ll get the rule book at the end, when you’ve eaten some of your own flesh.”

“Cannibalism? Nah, that’s my limit, I’m out,” Even says, starting to back away before getting tugged towards the house by both boys. “Alright, alright, I’ll eat an ear or something.“

“That’s all we’re asking,” Elias says, before entering the port code and pulling the door open.

The ribbing continues on their way upstairs, up until the moment Adam’s mum opens the door and they all fall over themselves trying to greet her in the nicest way possible.

She simply rolls her eyes at them and pulls them inside. “You’re getting more ridiculous for every week that goes by,” she says before calling for Adam.

 

Everything’s good until Mikael comes in, looking pale and shaken up. At that point, almost an hour has gone by and everyone has tried Mikael’s cell at least once.

“What’s happened?” Elias asks, the constant big brother. Before the others have even gotten out of their seats, Elias is up and hugging Mikael who clutches on to his hoodie.

Even’s chest constricts at the sight.

Their eyes meet over Elias’ shoulder. Even raises his eyebrows in a silent question. _Are you alright?_

Mikael shakes his head.

Even gets up and Mikael goes from Elias to him. Even pulls him in for a quick hug before gently pushing him down to sit on the floor in front of the bed, leaning back against Adam’s and Mutta’s legs.

No one says anything. They can hear Adam’s parents talking in the kitchen, and his sister is playing One Direction in her room, but in this one, quiet lies. Even has Mikael’s face burrowed into his neck, Adam softly combing through Mikael’s hair. The rest of the boys are scattered around them, all touching some part of Mikael, reassuring him. Usually, the sight of Elias having both hands on Mikael’s ankles would have been quite ridiculous, but now it just looks soft.

“You know that guy Anders?” Mikael says after a few long minutes.

“I think so,” Adam says. “The one that works in the coffee shop, right?”

“On campus,” Elias fills in.

“Mm,” Mikael says. “He’s been… talking to me. And he’s nice.”

“Replacing us, Mik?” Mutta says, going for teasing but missing the mark completely.

Mikael immediately shakes his head, shoulders climbing a little further upwards, making him look smaller. Even glares a little at Mutta, who holds his hands up in silent apology.

“What happened?” Even asks, tightening his grip on Mikael a little. He’s not very good at fighting, but he’ll scrape his knees and bust up his knuckles if it means making this right.

“He… So, like, his shift ended when I was leaving, and we were heading in the same direction,” Mikael says slowly, as if he’s trying to follow the story he himself is attempting to tell. “And I said cool, let’s walk together. But then when we headed down the park-“

“The one with the ducks and stuff?” Adam asks.

“Yeah,” Mikael says, “The little brown one was there today.”

“The one that looks like Dre?” Elias asks.

Mikael nods, his body loosing some of its tightness. “Dopest duck.”

“Dopest duck,” they all agree.

“Wait, so did he do something do the ducks?” Adam asks, getting a slap on the head from Mutta.

“What would he have done with the ducks, huh? Your brain man, sometimes I wonder.”

“He could have kicked it,” Adam says, “or… stolen food from it or something.”

“Wow,” Yousef says. “Alright, we’re getting back to that image later but for now, can we focus on Mikael’s thing?”

“Could be the ducks,” Adam mutters, but is quickly shot down. “Alright, alright, sorry. Go ahead, bro.”

Mikael clears his throat. “Okay, so we’re in the park and he kinda pulls me down to this bench and- He just- Starts talking about how he has a, a crush on me and then he just like, kissed me.”

Even’s heart drops right out of his body. He watches it fall, how it crushes against the floor and splatters blood all over the carpet. He’s still holding onto Mikael because this is his best friend and his best friend is in pain, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not dizzy at the sight of the blood, that he’s not aching to run out into the bathroom to scrub himself clean, to get rid of all the red that’s clinging to his skin.

“And so, I stopped it and he got all confused and then he said that I’d been giving him all these signals and how I’d been flirting with him forever and I _haven’t_ , he just- I was just talking, you know.” Mikael sniffles a little, dragging a hand across his eyes. “I didn’t mean to lead him on or make him think I’m gay or anything and- and then I told him that and he looked so _sad_ and then he left and I just sat there like a fucking idiot.”

Even can hear his pulse slow down as he’s bleeding out, can feel the numbness starting to take over. The boys around him can’t see it, can’t feel it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there, the evidence of the death of Even’s heart colouring the carpet underneath his feet.

When the flood has calmed down enough for Even to hear what the boys are saying, he immediately wishes he couldn’t. They’re responding the way they do in Even’s nightmares, saying the things he wishes he would never hear them say.

“You’re not gay, everyone knows that,” Elias says, “You can’t help it if he has feelings for you and you don’t have them for him. Fuck him if he thinks he’s entitled to anything.”

“I’ll come with you next time,” Mutta says. “You don’t have to hang out with him alone.”

“What a fucking asshole,” Adam says, “Just kissing someone like that, that’s a dick move. That’s worse than if he’d actually punched a duck.”

“Pushing himself on you really wasn’t cool,” Yousef says, “I’m sorry, Mik, that sucks.”

Mikael stays quiet, nodding along to some of what they’re saying. Finally, he does the thing Even has been dreading but knew was coming.

He pulls away a little to look up and ask Even what he thinks.

It’s almost a minute before Even can push down his own feelings far enough to tend to Mikael’s. Mikael is waiting patiently for him to speak, hands fidgeting in his lap. Even hates that it makes him love him more.

“I think… that it’s not your fault. I think that you’re nice, and funny, and smart, and that it’s completely his fault if he misinterpreted that. I think that-“ Even clears his throat and prays to every God he knows to let him finish this sentence with a steady voice, “that he should never have tried to push his feelings on you when you didn’t want them.”

Mikael looks away, blinking frenetically. Even pulls him in again, whispering reassurances so that he won’t hear the blood still dripping from his wide-open chest.

 

*

 

Even walks through the door, ignores Isak and his questions, ignores Linn on the couch, walks straight into his room and pushes his desk chair under the door handle so that it can’t be opened. 

He starts up his laptop and opens the shittiest, most generic Spotify playlist he can find, filled with songs that makes him feel nothing, that has no impact on his mood and won’t be ruined when he hears them again and is reminded of this moment.

As the first song starts playing, he lies down on the floor and starts counting out loud in time with the beat. When he gets to thirty-two, he starts crying. At fifty-three, he’s sobbing. At two hundred, he can’t feel his legs or his hands. At four hundred, his chest gets numb.

At one thousand, he feels nothing at all.

 

*

 

In the morning Even dresses in his softest, most worn-out clothes, layering more than what the weather calls for. He pulls the chair out from under the door handle and almost steps onto a plate with sandwiches that’s on the floor right in front of his door. Next to them is a mug of coffee with milk.

Isak. 

Even’s battered heart makes an attempt at beating faster but it only makes it bleed more. He pushes the plate aside with his foot and is out the door before anyone can call him back.

 

His lectures that day are fine, his seminar is alright and he has a few interesting conversations with his course mates. It doesn’t matter, though, because there’s no emotional response to it, no connection between the things that he does and the things he’s feeling.

There’s a steady beat of misery pumping through his veins, feeding the monster living in the back of his mind. It’s different from when he’s having a depressive episode, because there’s nothing shielding him from reality, nothing that pulls him away from the world and lets him sink under the surface and have everything go quiet.

He’s not in any way wishing for an episode, that’s the last thing he needs right now, but at least there’s something familiar about that feeling, a stabile sort of grief that this heartbreak does not offer. This is unpredictable, eliciting stabs of misery when he least expects it.

He doesn’t understand this pain. He doesn’t trust it.

The worst thing is, Even’s always known it was a pretty much hopeless case, falling for Mikael, but the way his friend reacted to a boy wanting him was so far off the mark of what Even dared to hope for, it’s almost laughable.

He’s not going to have him. Ever. And he can never let anything about his feelings, his desires and his stupid fucking hopes slip, because there is a chance Mikael will get hurt over it, that he’ll feel like he’s done something wrong when really it’s Even who’s been misinterpreting, Even’s who’s been fabricating feelings that don’t exist, Even who’s been fucking up their friendship this whole time. 

Enough. Enough now.

 

*

 

Even avoids all the guys for almost a week before their texts and calls get too insistent and he knows he can’t hide any longer.

He can’t think about the messages Mikael’s sent him the past few days, can’t bear to read them back, to see the bland advice Even’s given on how Mikael can try to get over the guilt he’s feeling. He hated writing them, hated sending them and yet, he can’t not write them because it’s _Mikael_ and he’s hurting.

Despite trying his best, he can’t stop thinking about the two of them together, can’t stop picturing a reality where they are a possibility. It hurts more every time he comes back from his thoughts to find himself in a reality where he’s wandering around without a heart, avoiding the very person he claims to love, but he can’t help but fantasize every time he closes his eyes.

He’s a bad person. He’s a bad friend.

 

Seeing all the guys at once is too much, so he finally agrees to go to the gym with Adam, knowing that their plans will spread to the rest of the group and will hopefully make the questions die down for now. 

They work out in silence for an hour. Adam is a good person to be quiet with, because he never tries to assign any meaning to the silence. There doesn’t have to be a reason for them to not talk, it just has to be a wish from both or one of them.

 

When they walk home, Adam tentatively brings up the party they’ve all been planning to go to on Wednesday, the one Even hasn’t made up his mind about yet. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Mikael again but on the other hand, a party might be a good distraction, taking away some of the pressure of their interaction.

“It’s gonna be great I think, I’ve invited Lisa,” Adam says.

“Lisa from Bakka?” Even says which, unless he’s mistaken, makes Adam blush.

“Um, yeah. She’s cool.”

Even knocks their shoulders together.

“Shut up,” Adam says. “Are you bringing anyone?”

“I don’t think so,” Even says, carefully ignoring the knife twisting in his chest. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t have to invite anyone, him and Mikael would show up together and that would be it. They would be going to the same parties as always, talking to the same people as always, dancing with the same people as always, but with the added layers of hands on hips, kisses down a jawline, fingers pressing into soft skin while the-

“What about Isak? We’ve barely even met him,” Adam says, effectively interrupting Even’s train of thought.

Even frowns. “Sure you have, he’s been around loads of times.”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t seen him since your house warming party, and I only got to talk to him for like a minute,” Adam says.

Even’s genuinely taken aback at that, the thought of Isak mixing in with his friends already being a done deal in his head. “Huh. Alright, I’ll ask him. I’m still not sure if I’m going, though.”

“Please come. It sucks that you’ve had so much in uni lately, we’ve missed you,” Adam says.

Even knows that Adam knows the uni excuse is pure bullshit, but it’s a testament to how well Even’s done in picking good friends that Adam doesn’t call him out on it. He looks up to meet Adam’s eyes, and the kindness there gives Even the last push to accepting. He’ll worry about himself some other time, right now he needs to focus on his friends. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Nice. Make sure Isak comes, I need to warn him about some of your nastier habits before he discovers them himself,” Adam says.

Even rolls his eyes, and smiles for the first time in days. “Good luck getting me to invite him now.”

“I’ll just ask him myself.”

“How would you do that? You just said yourself that you don’t know each other,” Even says.

“You don’t need to know each other to be Facebook friends, do you?” Adam says. “No one can resist my profile pic, he’s gonna be my bro within an hour.”

Even would like to be back to his old self, would like to crack jokes and entertain the way he usually does, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he answers Adam’s questions and asks some of his own, carefully counting his steps and making sure to match them to Adam’s. There’s a small sense of peace in that, and Even clings onto it in the fading light of the evening.

 

*

 

He makes sure to have breakfast with Isak the next morning, both to be able to extend the invite in person and to make a non-verbal apology about the way he’s acted the last few days.

Isak looks as rumpled as always as he makes his way out into the kitchen, pyjama pants slightly too long for him, dragging on the floor. He does a little double take when he sees Even by the stove, but he recovers quickly enough, mumbling a greeting while pulling out a coffee cup.

“Do you want one or two eggs?” Even asks, making sure not to raise his voice. Isak claims that loud noises in the morning makes his brain funky for the rest of the day, something he apparently discovered when living with Eskild.

“Boiled?” Isak asks.

Even nods, leaning against the counter while watching Isak trying to decide.

“One,” Isak says. Then, after a sip of coffee, “No, two. No… one.”

He nods decisively before shuffling over to the table. The timer goes off and before too long, Isak’s devoured his egg.

“Um.”

Even waves his spoon, “There’s another one ready for you.”

Isak pops over to get it, cracking the top of the shell happily.

“Thank you for the food the other day,” Even says, keeping his eyes on his food. “Sorry I didn’t eat it.”

“It’s cool,” Isak shrugs. “I was making some sandwiches anyway, just figured you hadn’t eaten.”

“Yeah,” Even says. This small act of casual kindness from Isak has him almost in tears and seriously, Even needs to get a grip. He clears his throat. “So, anyway. We’re going to a party tomorrow, and apparently, I’ve been hiding you from the guys.”

“That sounds like I’m a corpse in a basement or something,” Isak says.

“Princess in a tower maybe?” Even says.

“I’d look good in a tower,” Isak says. “I’m very tall.”

“That makes no sense,” Even says, reluctantly fond despite his silent vow to stay distant from all feelings for the nearest eternity.

“You make no sense,” Isak mumbles. “Where’s the party?”

“At a friends house. You want to come?” Even asks. To be fair, he’s still not completely sold on the idea of going in the first place, but the addition of Isak will make the night at least a fifth less crappy.

“Mkay. Should invite Linn as well,” Isak says.

“Sure,” Even says. “I’ll ask her.”

They eat silently for a while, before a sudden thought pops up in Even’s mind. “Hey, how’s Sana?”

Isak shrugs. “She’s alright. Had some stuff, but it seems to be working out.”

“Did she talk to you about it?”

“Yeah,” Isak says before looking up, raising his eyebrow at Even’s expression. “What?”

“Nothing,” Even says, smiling a little. “I’m just glad things worked out.”

“Hm,” Isak says, eyes narrowing. “If you say so.”

Even digs into his second egg, feeling slightly better at the proof that at least one thing he’s touched lately has turned out well.

 

*

 

Adam was right, it seems that all the guys are surprised to see Isak when arrive together at the party. Even feels a little guilty when he sees how happy Isak looks at the welcome, almost as if he’d thought there was a reason Even never brought them back together after their initial meeting.

“I can’t believe you have to live with Even,” Elias says, slinging an arm around Even. “I stayed at his house for a weekend once and man, the constant humming drove me nuts.”

Isak laughs. “You get used to it.”

“Hey,” Even says, “You said you liked my voice.”

Isak pointedly doesn’t answer, simply takes another sip from his beer and pretends to study the painting on the wall. Even breaks loose from Elias’ grip enough to shove Isak’s shoulder a little.

“Rude,” Even says.

Isak winks at him before getting caught in a discussion with Mutta and Yousef. They appear to be ranking the Ninja Turtles, their arguments heating up as Isak sides with Yousef. Even watches them for a moment before Elias catches his attention again.

“Have you talked to Mikael?” Elias asks, voice low.

“A little,” Even says, “just a few texts checking in. He seems alright.”

Elias nods. “I thought so too, but I don’t know. I think he might be getting wasted.”

“What? Are you serious?” Even does a quick scan of the room but he can’t see Mikael anywhere. The thought of Mikael lost somewhere in the crowd, drunk from the first time, makes his stomach constrict. Mikael’s had alcohol before, but he’s never actually gotten drunk, always stopping after one or two beers. “When did you see him?”

“Just when I got here, he’s gone off somewhere. I thought he was with you until I saw you come in.”

“I’ll go look for him,” Even says. He debates telling Isak before leaving, but Isak seems happy with the conversation he’s in and Even doesn’t want to disturb him. In the end, he just claps Elias on the back before walking towards the stairs.

 

Ten minutes later, he’s holding Mikael’s hair back as he throws up all over the backyard. He’d been in one of the bedrooms, sharing a joint with a few people Even’s never met before.

“What did you drink?” Even asks.

Mikael takes a moment to wipe his mouth before answering. “Nothing. Just smoked.”

“Okay,” Even says, stroking a hand down Mikael’s back. “I don’t think that was good weed, to be honest. Did they say anything about who they got it from?”

“Mm, something about… someone’s brother? Or, I dunno. They were nice.”

Even is about to reply when a third voice enters the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Isak asks, kneeling down on Mikael’s other side.

“Isak! Hey, how are you?” Mikael says, looking genuinely happy for the first time since Even dragged him outside.

“I’m good, Mikael. Just got a little sick of the people discussing the Kardashians inside, so I thought I’d join you,” Isak says while lightly grabbing Mikael’s arm to keep him steady.

“I like Khloe,” Mikael says, his words coming out slower than usual. “She’s pretty.”

“Is she the one who’s married to Kanye?” Isak asks, propping Mikael up a little so that his head rests more fully against Even’s shoulder.

“Nah, that’s Kim. She’s got an ass,” Mikael says.

“I hope they all have one, otherwise sitting down would be a problem,” Isak says. He takes a look at Mikael’s dopey smile and adds, “I’m kinda tired, I’m thinking of going home.”

Isak looks over at Even, urging him on with a pointed stare.

“Eh, yes. Home,” Even says, grasping at straws. “Me too?” He directs the question at Isak, who gives him a quick nod.

“I wanna go too,” Mikael says, hand coming up to pat Isak’s hair. Isak smiles.

“We’re quite close by, you want to crash at our place?” Isak asks.

“No, want to go home,” Mikael says, trying to get up but not succeeding. Even immediately reaches for him, steadying him while Mikael shakily stands. “Want my bed.”

“You could go home, but that would mean that Even would have to go with you and then I would wake up when he comes through the door,” Isak says, casually wrapping his arm around Mikael’s. “He’s not exactly a ballerina.”

“Oooh, burn,” Mikael says, smiling at Even. His eyes are still slightly out of focus, but his skin doesn’t look so ashen anymore. “You’re like an elephant. ‘S probably why you like peanuts so much.”

“Probably,” Even says. He’s feeling quite apprehensive about contributing to the conversation when Isak so clearly has an action plan in mind.

He doesn’t want Mikael to go home to his parents looking like this, which is why he’s more thankful than anything for Isak taking over. There’s none of the usual possessiveness Even usually feels when someone other than the boys touches Mikael or makes him smile, even though Isak’s done both in just a few minutes. Seeing them together doesn’t hurt at all, maybe because he trusts Isak and is, despite only knowing him a few months, quite convinced Isak would never do anything to hurt him.

“Can’t you stay on our sofa tonight? I need to sleep so I can get up early and study tomorrow. I’m going to the library with Sana, and she can smell weakness from a mile away,” Isak says as they slowly starts walking, Mikael propped up between them.

“I like Sana,” Mikael says. “She’s Elias’ little sister.”

“Yes she is,” Isak says. “We don’t want to upset her.”

Mikael shakes his head. “I’ll help you out, Isak, cause you’re a good bro.”

Isak smiles. “Thanks. It’s okay if Mikael stays with us, right Even?”

“Of course,” Even says, pulling Mikael a little closer, “you’re always welcome.” 

“Thanks Ev, love you,” Mikael says, stumbling a little as Isak freezes for a second before quickly getting into motion again. Even looks over but Isak’s looking at Mikael, saying something about having malfunctioning robot feet, which makes Mikael laugh.

 

They get Mikael settled on the couch, dressed in Even’s sweats and with Isak’s pillow under his head. Before Even can even properly thank Isak, he’s disappearing into his room, softly closing the door behind him.

Even writes a note and tapes it to the fridge so that Linn won’t be surprised at the sight of Mikael sleeping in the living room come morning. He takes one final look towards the sofa before retreating to his room, letting the door stay open in case Mikael needs him during the night. 

He doesn't sleep.

 

Breakfast is, despite all odds, an almost idyllic experience the next morning. Isak has to leave early for school, but Linn stays long enough for three cups of tea and a handful of grapes while Mikael devour the eggs and toast Even puts before him.

They talk about all the things they usually talk about and are doing a fine job pretending nothing is out of the ordinary until Mikael’s mum calls Even.

“Is your phone off?” Even asks, thumb hovering over the screen.

“No, but she’s probably checking my story about staying with you. She’s been on my case lately,” Mikael says. “Please just take it.”

Even answers the phone. Mikael’s mum is someone he’s talked quite a lot to over the years, dipping in and out of the house since their first school year. This feels different though, because she’s never sounded so worried and Even’s never felt so guilty.

“Yeah, he spent the night. We haven’t really had the chance for a sleepover in a while,” Even says. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course, yes,” Mikael’s mum replies. “I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t… that nothing was the matter.”

Even looks over at Mikael, at the dark rings under his eyes, the way his hand is shaking a little around the fork. “Everything’s fine,” Even says. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Sure, just for a second,” she says.

Even hands the phone over and walks out of the kitchen to give them some privacy. He’s in the middle of changing when Mikael pops up in the doorway.

“Thanks,” Mikael says, handing Even’s phone over.

Even shrugs, desperately hoping not to blush. Mikael’s watching him, but it’s not in the way Even wants him to, nothing in his gaze besides fondness. Even’s never wanted someone to want him this bad before. He’d be ecstatic for even a fleeting moment of curiosity from Mikael.

Even turns to pick a shirt out from his drawer, frowning when he pulls one out that’s definitely not his. He snorts, throwing it on the bed behind him.

“What?” Mikael asks, walking over to sit down next to the discarded shirt. He shakes it out and looks at the print. “Didn’t know you were into TLC.”

“It’s not mine,” Even says. “Isak likes to sneak his stuff into my laundry to get out of doing it himself. I usually notice, but that one slipped through.” 

“Smart move,” Mikael says. “I like him.”

“Yeah, he’s cool,” Even says. “Even though TLC is not.”

Mikael gasps dramatically, hugging the shirt to his chest. “How dare you? I can’t believe this disrespect. You are such a scrub.”

“I am not a scrub,” Even says. “I don’t live with my mama or anything.”

“Don’t have any money though,” Mikael says. “Which makes you a scrub. I don’t make the rules.”

“Who does?”

Mikael stares at him. “TLC,” he says, incredulously.

“Right,” Even says.

“Why haven’t you brought Isak with you before?”

“That’s what Adam asked,” Even says. “I really just haven’t thought about it.”

“Alright,” Mikael says, fiddling a little with the shirt before neatly folding it up. “I should be getting home, I don’t want mum to worry.”

There is a second when Even wants to ask, wants to find out the reason behind Mikael smoking for the first time, if he’s feeling alright. Then again, Even already knows the answers and he doesn’t want to, can’t, hear Mikael say them out loud.

In the blink of an eye, the opportunity is gone, and Mikael is out the door. Even aches a little as he watches him go.

 

_thanks for helping last night._

Isak replies with nothing but a photoshopped gif of George Costanza breakdancing. Even feels ridiculous for smiling at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments and kudos! (And yes, my version of Isak is very much a TLC fan. Fight me.)


	3. metaphysics and movie nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The golden ratio is explained, Isak has insomnia and Eskild makes an entrance.

 

After Even’s done with his therapy session, he takes the familiar ten minute walk to his parents’ flat. He’s back here a little less often than he thought he would when he first moved out, but he can’t say it’s a bad thing. 

“I’m here, hello,” Even says as he walks through the door, throwing his keys on the table.

There’s a distinct noise coming from within the flat and Even closes his eyes and wishes for the ability of teleportation. “Are you making out in the living room?”

“Um…. No?” His mum says. 

“Ugh,” Even says, “I’m coming in there, please don’t be on top of each other.”

His dad is sitting on one end of the couch and his mum on the other when he reaches the doorway.

“Greetings, firstborn,” his dad says. “How are things?”

“How are things?” Even asks, feeling himself smile against his will. “What is this, a 1950s sitcom?”

“That’d be great,” his dad says. “We’d be extremely popular.”

Even sits down between them, ignoring the fact that he’s currently playing the role of the parent. “Only because there wouldn’t be any other channels to turn to.”

His dad shoves his shoulder lightly. “Rude.”

His mum reaches over to give Even a hug. “Hi, by the way. I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I was just down at the office,” Even says, a habit he hasn’t been able to shake. It’s always felt like a cloak of invisibility, calling his therapist’s clinic the office, a disguise used in public so that no one would know. “Thought I’d drop by.”

“Good timing, actually,” his dad says, getting up. “I found this, I thought you could bring it home.”

He shuffles a few things around in the bookcase before handing Even an old book, its spine cracked and almost falling to pieces. “The metaphysics of the universe. Wow dad, this is almost like getting a dog.”

“You really need to get over the whole dog thing,” his dad says, “You know you were never going to walk it, anyway. And the book is not for you, smartass. It’s for Isak.”

Even looks at his mum, who doesn’t seem to find anything strange about this revelation.

“Wait, what? Since when are you book-buddies with my flatmate?”

“Since now, apparently,” his mum says. “We should be book-buddies, Ev, you could do with some more reading in your life.”

“I read plenty,” Even says, rolling his eyes but giving her hand a squeeze.

They’ve had this discussion countless times since he as a kid decided that moving pictures were far more interesting than words on a page. It didn’t really go down swimmingly with his mum, and she’s been making it her mission to get him to appreciate books more ever since. Apparently, it’s a disgrace to be a Norwegian teacher with a son who lacks interest in Norwegian literature.

“I talked to him about it when we moved you in,” his dad says, thumbing through the book. “He’s into physics, so I thought he’d like this.”

“Okay,” Even says. “I’ll take it with me.”

“Great,” his dad says distractedly, still standing in front of the bookcase, engrossed in one of the pages.

Even and his mum gives each other a look, before getting up and moving into the kitchen. “Join us when your brain reconnects to the real world,” Even says over his shoulder.

“Be nice,” his mum says, but she doesn’t disagree with the sentiment.

 

He spends a few hours surrounded by everything that makes him feel safe, updating his parents on his courses, his friends and his new flat. He gets food to take home, as always, and a few torn-out pages from his dad’s note book with his thoughts on one of the chapters in the book meant for Isak. 

He leaves the flat feeling lighter than before, happy with the way he can still relax and be free of the otherwise constant dull pain in his chest, at least for a few hours at a time.

 

*

 

“Um, Even?” Isak asks, looking decidedly confused as he stands by the kitchen table the next morning, the physics book laid out in front of him. “What’s this?”

“That’s my dad,” Even says. His brain isn’t fully alert yet, waiting for the coffee that’s currently only halfway done.

“Your dad’s turned into a book?” Isak asks. It’s not even him teasing, it’s just that Isak’s coffee is also not done yet and as big as his brain is most of the time, an early morning can reduce it to the size of a peanut.

Even tries not to feel bad about liking it a little bit. Usually him and Isak feel so unequal when it comes to logical thinking but for a few minutes every morning, they’re somewhat level.

“No, it’s from him. He thought you’d like it.”

Isak is quiet for a moment, carefully looking through the pages, trying not to open it too much and damage the spine further. “I do like it.”

Isak seems to be having a bit of a moment, so Even lets him be and busies himself taking out mugs from the cupboard. 

“Tell him thanks from me,” Isak says, still nose deep in the book. “This is really nice. They haven’t rewritten it that much, actually, even though this is an older version.”

Even pours up the coffee and takes a seat opposite Isak. “I didn’t know you knew it that well.”

“Oh, it’s my favourite book,” Isak says absently. “They used to have it in the library and then it disappeared, I think someone forgot to return it.”

“Bastards,” Even says.

“Right? People who disrespect libraries are asswhores,” Isak says before freezing. He looks up at Even. “Assholes. I meant assholes.“

Even’s laughing too hard to respond.

“I didn’t- oh fuck it,” Isak says, shuffling over to grab his coffee and down it. “Shit that’s hot,” he says before pouring another cup.

“Slow down before you burn your tongue off,” Even says.

They sit in silence, Isak absentmindedly stroking the cover of the book, tracing the letters in the titles. Thanks to Isak’s smile, Even feels prouder of his dad than he has in a long time.

 

*

 

A couple of days later sees both Isak and Even on the way to the Bakkoush household, so they take the short trip together and spend the tram ride sitting pressed against each other, watching stupid YouTube videos featuring baby pigs and skateboards. 

“It’s not harming them, is it?” Even asks.

“Don’t think so,” Isak says. “They’re not sending out any stress signals, so I think they’re fine.”

“How do you know what a stressed out pig looks like?”

“I grew up with one,” Isak says, aiming for jovial but missing by a mile. Clearing his throat, he continues, “Um no, but you can tell if they’re making certain noises or if they’re twitching a lot, that’s usually a sign.”

Even watches him for a moment, rather taken aback by hearing Isak joke about his dad, even if it was a botched attempt. Isak doesn’t really share much about his family, but the hints he’s dropped in various conversations has made it possible for Even to puzzle together enough to understand that Isak’s dad wasn’t around enough and that his mum, although currently stable, used to be quite a flight risk.

Even’s grateful that he brought up his own diagnosis when he first went to meet Isak and Linn about the room, otherwise he’d probably be too scared of losing Isak’s good opinion when he’d find out about Even being bipolar. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone’s thought less of him for it. Thankfully, it’s been a while and when it happened last, there had been five angry boys standing up for him, effectively shutting down all the misconceptions his newfound friend seemed to have. The friendship didn’t last after that, but Even couldn’t find it in him to care. 

“Have you talked to your dad lately?” Even asks, careful to keep his voice neutral.

Isak’s shoulders immediately tenses up. “No. He sends money, that’s about all I care about. I don’t need him.”

“Okay.” Even clicks on a related video. “What about kittens, how do you know they don’t want to be in tiny boxes?”

“Please. All kittens want to be in boxes,” Isak says. “But they don’t always want to have people around, you can tell from their meows if they’re uncomfortable or if they’re just calling out for food. Wild cats never make noises once they’ve grown up, but tame ones do, probably because they think humans are stupid and need verbal cues to provide for them.”

“And do we?”

Isak shrugs. “A lot of the time, yeah. Since we’ve started using more complicated spoken languages, we’ve started to depend on it a lot more than our forefathers used to. We don’t trust our instincts as much as they would, which is a shame because it would really come in handy from time to time.”

Even smiles at him, so very fond of the way Isak explains things without ever being condescending, or making it too complicated just to make himself sound smart. “You should teach, you know.”

“What, in a school? Can you imagine me being patient with a bunch of children?” Isak scoffs, before looking up at Even. “Oh fuck no.”

“What?”

“You have the same look Eskild used to have when he tried to teach me about my _value_ and my _prospects_ and how you can’t be _gay for pay_ , there’s always a little bit of dick-loving in there,” Isak says, gesturing wildly until he catches the eye of a woman with a stroller in the front of the tram. His blush is instant and he’s quickly scooting down the seat, trying to hide his entire existence behind the seat in front of him. “Help.”

Even dramatically throws an arm over Isak’s face, covering his eyes completely. “There, now you can’t see the judgement in her eyes.”

“Get off me,” Isak says, but makes no move to make it happen.

“Also, there’s nothing wrong about people believing in you, you know,” Even says. It’s easier to say these things when he’s eliminated the possibility of Isak looking at him. “You’re gonna do great things. Eskild and me are your proud, proud parents.”

“Ugh,” Isak says, a little muffled by Even’s jacket sleeve.

“And, as he’s my co-parent, I really think you should talk to Eskild more. I’m sure he misses you,” Even says.

There’s quiet for a moment, before a petulant “fine” comes from Isak.

“Great! Also, the lady got off at the last stop, so right now you’re just snuggling my arm for no reason,” Even says, snickering when Isak pops up with an offended look on his face.

He takes a glance out the window and turns back to Even with a judgementally raised eyebrow. “You do realize that was also our stop, right?”

 

When they finally get to the flat, Even immediately informs Sana that it’s Isak’s fault that they’re late. Isak’s wild protests clearly don’t work as Sana takes one look at him before rolling her eyes and pulling him by the wrist into the living room.

“The guys are in Elias’ room,” Sana says over her shoulder.

“It really wasn’t my fault, he’s just-“ Isak says.

“Oh hush, Isabell, we all know you’re shit at keeping time.”

Before Even can hear Isak’s retort he’s bodily attacked by Adam, who clings to his back like a baby monkey.

“Eveeeeeeen, where have you been? We almost started without you, but then we realised you had the camera.”

“Wow, thanks for your patience,” Even says, hooking his arms under Adam’s knees so that he won’t fall when Even starts walking towards Elias’ room.

They run into Elias’ mum on the way there, greeting her politely before promising not to knock anything down and that they’re all staying for dinner.

“I’ve made your favourite, so you better be hungry,” she says to Even before waving them off.

“You’re like the mum-whisperer,” Adam says as soon as they’re out of reach. “You gotta teach me how to do that.”

“It’s called being charming,” Even says. “And you can’t teach it, it’s something you’re born with.”

That comment earns him a loud groan, right into his ear, but Even still thinks it’s worth it.

When they come through the door, they’re met with the sight of all the guys sitting on the bed, staring at the same laptop, Mikael leaning back against the wall, pointing to something on the screen.

“See, it’s right there. Even, come help me explain the golden ratio,” Mikael says, lighting up as he catches sight of them.

Even immediately puts Adam down to join Mikael, who scoots forward enough for Even to fit behind him on the bed. With his legs stretched out on either side of Mikael’s back, Even finds himself with his face tucked against the side of Mikael’s and if he didn’t hate his feelings before, he certainly does now.

He could so easily fool himself into thinking that this means something more, but the fact of the matter is that one wrong step, and he could end up the same as Anders the barista, who now has been completely cut off and is on the no-fly list of conversations.

So, instead of resting his chin against Mikael’s shoulder, breathing him in and enjoying the moment, Even steels himself and looks straight at the screen. “How far have you come?”

“Just the basic premise of it,” Mikael says, reaching a hand up to pat Even’s head. “I leave the details to you.”

“Alright,” Even says and starts explaining.

Fifteen minutes later, he still hasn’t convinced Mutta that it doesn’t have anything to do with porn, but Mikael’s laughing and the sound is vibrating against Even’s chest so really, he can’t complain.

 

After the guys decide to go film a vlog outside, Even hangs back a little to talk to Sana alone in the kitchen. She’s in the middle of making coffee, and Even recognises Isak’s ratio of five cubes of sugar in one of the cups.

“Hey,” he says.

She looks up, gives him an easy smile. “Hiya.”

“How are you?” Even sinks down into one of the chairs, the movement almost automatic after spending countless hours in them before. “You alright for the exam?”

“Seems like it,” Sana says, “We’re doing alright so far, just needs to go over everything a couple of more times.”

Even nods, unsure how to continue. He wants to ask about their previous conversation, but isn’t sure how to approach it without making her uncomfortable. Thankfully, Sana rolls her eyes at him before he even has the chance to put his foot in his mouth.

“And yes, you were right,” Sana says. “He’s a good listener.”

“Good,” Even says, trying not to sound too smug. “I’m glad.”

She grabs the coffee pot, just starting to pour when Isak’s voice carries from the living room. “Sanaaaaa, I’m thirsty.”

“Ugh,” Sana says before raising her voice, “I know, that’s why you need a boyfriend.”

Even snorts as Isak splutters in the other room, then stays silent for a moment.

“That’s mean.” Although he is two rooms away, Isak’s pout is quite obvious. “And it’s not my fault that the one time-“

“Stop shouting about your love life and let me finish talking to Even,” Sana says, interrupting him.

Isak quiets at that and Even feels a little bit like an intruder, so he stands up and gives Sana a kiss on the cheek. “I’m happy you’re doing well.”

“Thanks,” she says.

Even calls out a goodbye for Isak as he puts his coat on, winking at Sana when she passes him with the cups.

The boys have all gathered right outside the door, and after being berated for making them wait, they’re off to the park to get some shots for the video.

 

*

 

Linn is already up when Even comes into the kitchen on Friday morning, a distinct change from their usual routine. “Can’t sleep?” 

She shakes her head. “I’m glad I’m not Isak, I couldn’t handle being this tired all the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t sleep.” Linn looks at him as if this is an indisputable fact, which it to Even very much is not.

“Wha- ever?”

“I guess he has to sometimes, but never for long. You really haven’t noticed?”

Even thinks back, but he can’t remember anything that should have made him aware of that fact. There is a bottle of sleeping pills in the bathroom, but he never really considered it to mean anything. “How do you know, did he tell you?”

Linn yawns her way through a shrug. “Not really. Eskild knew, so he told me to keep an eye out in case it ever got really bad. If he’s going to school and doesn’t pass out during the day, I just let him be.”

“Huh.” Even leans back against the counter, feeling quite stupid in not having realized such a big thing about Isak’s everyday life. “Do you think he’d mind if I’d talk to him about it?”

“I don’t know,” Linn says, grabbing a drink from her shelf in the fridge. “I’m going back to bed.”

Even watches her go before putting some water to boil. He makes a mental note of getting an electric kettle while he puts together the most sleep-friendly cup of tea he can manage. Picking up the mug, he reconsiders and makes one for himself as well, before carefully carrying them over to Isak’s door. He bangs his foot against it.

“What?”

“Hi, it’s me Even, from the other room,” he says, mentally face palming himself the second the words leave his mouth.

“Uh. Sure?” Isak says.

“Can I come in?” Even asks. “Also, can you help me with the door?”

There’s the sound of bare feet against the floor before Isak appears in the doorway, hair askew and only clad in a t-shirt and underwear. Even’s pointedly not looking at Isak’s legs, instead giving him a bright smile and shoving one of the mugs towards him. “Hello, good morning. I made you some tea.”

“I don’t drink tea,” Isak says, right before accepting the mug and taking a sip.

Even can’t help but beam at him. “It’s green tea. To help you calm down and stuff.”

Isak narrows his eyes at him. “Okay?”

Even squirms a little, not wanting Isak to know that Even knows about the sleep problems and is now trying to take care of him but, at the same time, desperately wanting to take care of him.

“Just… because it’s Friday. No need to stress for school cause you don’t start until after noon, so you can just drink your tea in peace. Or in front of the TV, I think there’s a morning show on.”

“You mean the one with the people wearing pastel shirts and talking about the weather?” Isak asks.

“Yup. I thought we could watch it, you can tell me why pastel shirts suck,” Even says, determined to push through this hideous car wreck of a conversation. “Also, I’m bored and you can make me… not-bored.”

“Fine,” Isak says after scrutinizing Even for a few moments.

They settle down, Even coaxes Isak into drinking another cup of tea before stealthily lowering the volume of the TV and keeping to one end of the couch so that Isak can stretch out. Isak falls asleep somewhere around hour two. Even covers him with a blanket before putting on a movie and spends the rest of the morning alternatively watching Aladdin and watching Isak.

 

*

 

The fact that Even hasn’t been helping Isak the way Isak’s been trying to help him is grating on Even and he needs to do something about it. Since the one person who supposedly knows most about Isak’s life and wouldn’t betray him for anything is also someone who wants people looking out for Isak, Even decides to try and take Eskild out for coffee. He gets Eskild’s number from Linn and tries to formulate his request without worrying Eskild or have him ask Isak about it.

_Hi Eskild, it’s Even (new flatmate to Linn & Isak). I was wondering if you’d wanted to meet up sometime? There’s some stuff I could use your advice on. Let me know!_

He’s happy with the wording, not pushy but light and easy going. Even debates texting Elias to confirm the casualness of it, but ultimately decides against it.

Eskild’s reply comes within five minutes. _Hi new flatmate Even! Sure, we could hang, but just to make sure- you’re not asking me on a date, are you? Cause then I’m gonna have to say no._

_No, no, just as friends. I just have some things I need to talk to you about._

He gets back three samba ladies and a pigeon, so he thinks they’re on. He leaves it to Eskild to decide where and when they’re going to meet which, in hindsight, may not have been the greatest idea.

 

“What are you doing here?” Isak asks when he opens the door to reveal a grinning Eskild two days later. “Didn’t you move?” 

“Oh, don’t try to hide your happiness,” Eskild says, waving Isak out of the way and kicking off his shoes. “You’re clearly ecstatic to see me and, if you must know, I was invited by our new friend Even.”

“Really?” Isak looks up at Even who is trying to come up with a good reason for the visit.

“There’s some stuff in my bedroom. Weird stuff,” he says, praying with his entire being that Eskild won’t call him out on it. “So I thought I’d check if Eskild knew something about it.”

Isak actually seems to accept that as a reason, which makes Even think he should’ve checked the inner corners of the closet a little more carefully before putting his clothes in there.

Eskild looks torn between amused and confused, so he just stands there smiling a little before it becomes apparent that Even needs him to save the day.

“Right,” Eskild says, a beat too late. “Let’s check this stuff out, but if it’s about the stain, I had nothing to do with it.”

“Which stain? God, Eskild, what did you do in there?” Isak says, wrinkling his nose. 

“As I said, I didn’t do anything. Also, remember to always wear condoms, young grasshopper,” Eskild says, giving Isak’s shoulder a pat. “Comes in handy, if you know what I mean. Also, comes in hand is-“

“Okay, okay,” Isak says, raising his hands. “I’m going to Jonas’, please be done when I come back.”

“You never know,” Eskild says. “Might take a while.”

Isak makes a disgusted face before shoving his arms into a jacket and pulling his nearest sneakers on. He has a hand on the door handle when he changes his mind, walking over and giving Eskild the shortest hug in history. When he pulls back, they exchange a look Even can’t read, before Eskild shakes his head furiously and Isak smiles at him.

“Also, don’t-“

“I know, Isak, I won’t,” Eskild says. “Now get out of here,” he pushes Isak slightly towards the door.

Even gets a wave and a smile before Isak’s out the door. The minute it’s shut, Eskild spins around to face him. “From my expertise in reading people, I can tell this isn’t about any things I may or may not have left behind.”

“You are correct,” Even says. “Linn’s probably coming home in a few hours, you want coffee or something?”

“Sure,” Eskild says. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

 

They’ve worked their way through chatting about all their mutual friends, of which there turned out to be far more than Even thought, and come back round to talk about the flat when Even feels it’s time to steer the conversation to its original purpose.

“So, the thing I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts. “It’s about Isak. There’s just- some stuff I’m not sure about.”

Eskild nods, looking a little hesitant for the first time since his arrival. “The thing you need to know about Isak is that he’s really a good person. I know he comes off as a little harsh and there are a few times when he can really be out of line, but I don’t think you should take them to heart.”

“Like what?” Even says.

“It’s not really my place to tell. I just know that whatever impression you have on him, it’s going to improve a lot. I wouldn’t do anything rash right now, cause it’s a great flat and all.”

“What? No, I’m not moving,” Even says. “That’s not at all what I’m trying to say. This is- okay.”

“You’re not even thinking about it?” Eskild asks.

“No!”

“Okay, good. I got a little worried when I got your text,” Eskild says. “So you don’t have a problem with Isak?”

Even tries to blink as little as possible as he looks straight into Eskild’s eyes, desperate not to make any indication that he’s not being truthful. “I like Isak a lot, I think he’s really nice and really fun to hang out with. I’m just… I didn’t know he wasn’t sleeping.”

A look of understanding comes over Eskild’s face. “Ooh.” He smiles. “Alright. So you want to know how you can help? You need the guidebook on how to aide Oslo’s number one grump?”

Even laughs. “Something like that. I don’t want him to be worse off with me in the flat instead of you.”

“Well, that’s just lovely,” Eskild says, saluting him with his coffee mug. “And also, very much needed. I asked Linn to keep an eye out, but she hardly does that for herself, so I can’t really fault her if she misses some stuff.”

“Do I need to take notes? I can get a pen, hang on,” Even’s almost out of his chair when Eskild pulls him back down.

“We’re not talking about a stray puppy Even, he’s a fully functioning human,” Eskild says. “Well, almost. You just need to check in every now and then, if he’s not sleeping more than a couple of hours, something’s probably up and even though he’ll never admit it, he’s going to want to talk about it to someone.”

“I can do that,” Even says, setting a mental alarm to listen for sounds from Isak’s room before going to bed.

“Good.” Eskild hesitates. “I hope you don't mind, but he mentioned something about you being bipolar after you came to see the flat. This is maybe a little out of bounds for me, but he’s already done a massive amount of research, and he’s probably going to use every bit of it if you have an episode.”

“Yeah,” Even says. “I kinda figured when he started asking very specific questions over breakfast the day after I moved in.”

“He’s not exactly subtle,” Eskild says, rolling his eyes. “Just- He takes on blame easily, so don’t be surprised if he thinks it’s his fault if you’re feeling bad.”

“That’s not how it works, at all,” Even says.

“Yeah, well, guilt isn’t logical,” Eskild says. He takes a sip of his coffee, smirks at Even. “So you really didn’t find any weird stuff in the closet?”

Even snorts. “Not yet.”

“Well, never say never,” Eskild says.

 

*

 

Hoping that he’s not crossing the line, Even messages Linn during a lecture the following day, asking if she has any other tips for how to keep up with Isak’s sleep schedule. Her answer is somewhat disappointing.

_idk, I mostly just ask him. he’s almost 18 so don’t want to treat him like a child_

While it’s true that Isak is in many ways an adult, he’s also Even’s friend, and sometimes Even may get a little overprotective, but he'd rather have that than have Isak be miserable due to lost sleep.

Even’s been told that his own bouts of insomnia, usually paired with a manic episode, can be helped by both medicine and therapy, but he doesn’t think Isak is going to go for either. Instead, he sets a weekly reminder in his phone to check how much coffee Isak is having in the morning, and to stock up on tea. He thinks about how it would be possible to modify Isak’s use of technology late at night but comes to the conclusion that that’s bordering on invasion of Isak’s privacy.

Movie nights however, which always seem to calm Isak down, may help a little and they can easily be made into a weekly thing. Opening the flatmate group chat, Even sends a few quick messages.

_I’ve decided that Tuesdays are movie nights from now on. We each get to pick the movie once every three weeks, no cheating!_

_Ps popcorn will be included_

_Pps no backing out, don’t be a square_

Isak replies. _Pulp fiction?_

Even smiles. _Pulp fiction._

 

*

 

Even’s outside Mikael’s house. It’s the first time they’re going to properly hang out just the two of them, since Mikael spent the night on Even’s sofa. He feels ridiculous when he has to take a deep breath before knocking, but he does it nonetheless. 

The door opens and Mikael’s mum greets him with a hug, the same as she has been since he was six years old and first started coming over after school.

“How are you?” Even asks. He knows it’s been a weird few weeks for them, probably knowing that Mikael is going through something but not getting enough information about it to be able to help.

“Oh, we’re fine,” she says, smiling up at him. “Have you been growing again?”

“Don’t think so,” Even laughs. “If you’ve got a measuring tape, we could check.”

She rolls her eyes fondly at him. “Never mind then, off you go,” she says, shuffling him towards the hallway leading to Mikael’s room.

The door is open when he gets there, halting in the doorway to watch Mikael for a moment before making himself known. Mikael’s sitting on the bed, book in his lap but eyes focused on the window, lost in thought.

He looks beautiful. Even feels the familiar tug of longing in his chest, but tries to squash it before it can grow as big as he used to let it.

“Who are you posing for?”

Mikael startles a little before smiling. “Aliens.”

“Ah. Of course.” Even walks in to sit down on the desk chair, spinning it around to face Mikael. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Mikael says. “I’ve got an interview later, you want to come with?”

“Sure. Where is it?”

“Some office… somewhere.” Mikael points to the mess of papers on the desk behind Even. “I printed out the email.”

Even looks through the papers, trying not to read too many of them. There’s old papers from school, a few comics cut out from various newspapers and underneath them, the confirmation for an interview. “Social media manager?”

“Basically a fancy way of saying _yo, write our tweets_ ,” Mikael says.

“Right. You’d be good at that.”

“Thanks,” Mikael says. “Hey, did you hear about what Elias did? It was so stupid, I can’t believe Sana didn’t scalp him.”

Even would answer but his eye is drawn to another pile of papers on the desk, previously hidden underneath the one he’s holding in his hand. It’s printed out verses from the Quran, pages and pages of them.

Before he can get past the first passage, Mikael has gotten up and pulled them away. He clutches them to his chest, refusing to meet Even’s eyes.

It’s quiet for a moment. Even wants to ask but he’s not sure he wants the answer. In the end, Mikael gives them unprompted anyway.

“I’m just trying to figure some stuff out,” he says quietly.

Even nods. “What kind of stuff?” he asks, his voice coming out weak. He knows he shouldn’t build on this before he’s even sure what the foundation is, but he can’t stop the hope from seeping in again, occupying his body like it never left.

“What’s gonna happen to Anders,” Mikael says, looking down on his feet. “I don’t want him to… end up in a bad place just because he’s gay.” He shrugs. “Feels wrong.”

Before Even can stop himself, the words are out of his mouth. “Are you afraid it’s going to happen to you too?”

Mikael frowns at that, looking genuinely confused. “No? Why would I be?”

That’s the thing about hope. It’ll fucking kill you.

“I don’t know,” Even says, forcing a smile. “Just checking in on your soul, I guess.”

Mikael smiles back, but it’s weaker than usual. “My soul is fine, you weirdo.” He puts the papers face down on the bed behind him, biting his lip. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m good. Could go for some tea, though,” Even says, knowing Mikael is looking for an excuse to leave the room.

“Me too,” Mikael says. “Come on.”

He walks out of the room and Even is left with the choice of following him or picking up the papers and read as much as he has time to before Mikael will notice his absence. He stares at the papers, feels them taunt him. He knows nothing good will come out of it, he doesn’t know enough about the scripture to be able to put the verses into context and this could be horrifically bad for his now somewhat stabile sense of self.

His fingers still itch to reach out and grab them.

Even clenches his jaw and carefully breathes out. He walks out of the room before he has the chance to give into temptation.

 

They grab their teacups and go out to the balcony. The sound of kids running round on the playground below makes a nice background for their tentative conversation. They’ve been going over the latest Bakkoush sibling bet and laments how Elias always goes up against Sana even though he knows he can’t win. Even doesn’t have any sisters himself, something he’s always felt a little sad about. He wonders if Isak is an only child too, he should ask him when he gets home.

“Was there any stress with your parents when you got home from mine?” Even asks in a lull in the conversation. He’s careful to keep his voice down since they’ve been caught by Mikael’s parents before, discussing things they’d rather keep secret.

“No, it was fine,” Mikael says. “They like you.”

Even fist bumps the air, Mikael rolls his eyes at him. “I can’t believe people think you’re cool.”

“Who thinks I’m cool?” Even says, running a hand through his hair, fixing the styling a bit. “Please introduce me.”

“Nope,” Mikael says. “You have enough of an ego. How’s the flat, by the way? Sorry I haven’t asked about it more, I feel like I’ve dropped my best friend duties a little.”

“It’s good,” Even says. “I get to cook a lot, which is fun.” He’s careful not to answer the latter half of Mikael’s statement, even though it feels shitty to let Mikael feel responsible for the distance that’s come up between them lately.

“What, without your mum there?” Mikael says. “I didn’t know you were old enough to use the stove by yourself.”

Even snorts. “Very funny. I was gonna invite you over, but I’ll drop that now.”

“Nooo, I wanna come! Please? I wanna hang out more with Isak,” Mikael says. “Sana says he’s awesome.”

“Really? She said that?” It may be ridiculous, but Even feels proud of both Sana and Isak for that.

“Not in those words, but you know. That’s what she meant.”

“Huh. Okay, because you told me that, you can come over. We usually eat together every day except for Wednesdays.”

 

 

Isak and Jonas are on the couch when Even comes home, their legs tangled together as they play Fifa. They don’t shout or argue as Even usually does when he plays, but there are grunts and the occasional laugh, proving that they’re still very much enjoying the game.

After grabbing a cup of coffee, Even sits down on the opposite sofa, watching them more than he’s watching the screen. They seem incredibly comfortable with each other, Isak carelessly pressing closer to Jonas when he’s gearing up to score. Jonas pushes back when he misses, snickering into Isak’s hair.

There’s no tension there, but Even thinks that maybe him and Isak are more similar than he first thought. Maybe this is why Isak was so understanding when Even owned up to his feelings for his own best friend. Maybe this is something they can talk to each other about, even more than they already have.

 

He brings it up later in an admittedly very clumsy fashion. Jonas has just gone home and Isak is, completely by his own volition, grabbing an apple when Even blurts it out. 

“So you have feelings for Jonas, huh?”

Isak looks up at him, idly rubbing the apple against his shirt. “Um, no?”

“Really? Seemed like it,” Even says, but starting to doubt his instincts when Isak rolls his eyes.

“I had a crush on him when I was fifteen, but that’s over and done,” Isak shrugs. “Magnus still loves to bring it up any time he can, though.”

“Ah,” Even says.

Isak leans against the counter. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Even says quickly. There’s no pity in Isak’s eyes though, so he slumps down a little and confesses, “I’ve just been to Mikael’s. He’s still talking about that girl he hooked up at my housewarming party.”

“I’m sorry,” Isak says. “I know how much that sucks.”

“Yeah? Did you pine a lot as a tiny teenager?” Even asks, a little sad at the thought of a younger Isak discovering his sexuality in such a lonely way.

“Something like that. But I was never tiny,” Isak says, standing up straight. “See, I’ve always been tall.”

“That’s not a valid argument,” Even says. “Just because you’re tall now doesn’t mean you’ve always been.”

“Yes, it does,” Isak says promptly, probably anticipating the objection. “I was 1.80 when I was born and then I just kept growing. The delivery took five days cause there was so much of me.”

Even tries to speak through his laughter, but collapses before he can get through the first word.

“So rude to laugh about my struggles,” Isak says, trying to hold in his own laughter. “I was experimented on all through my childhood, scientists thought I was Bigfoot’s cousin.”

Even loses it again. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard,” he manages to wheeze out.

“Hey!” Isak laughs. “Don’t be mean, Even.”

“How did your parents find baby clothes that fit?”

“Spandex,” Isak says, “I wore nothing but spandex for the first years of my life. Then they started shopping at the adult section of H&M.”

“Stylish since 1999, then,” Even says, still chuckling.

“You know it,” Isak says. He takes a first bite of his apple, looking quite content at the taste when he used to protest for five minutes before even picking one up.

“You want to do something, watch a film maybe?” Even asks, not ready to say goodnight yet.

“I thought that was for Tuesdays?” Isak teases. “But sure, I’m in.”

 

They end up watching Air Bud, which Isak for some reason owns on DVD. “Don’t judge me, I always wanted a dog when I was a kid and this was as close as I could come.”

“I wanted a dog too,” Even says. “Maybe we should get one now.”

Isak looks at him for a beat too long at that, before turning away abruptly. “Be a pain when one of us would move though. Don’t want a custody battle.”

“True,” Even says. “Guess I’ll have to wait a couple of years til I’m settled.”

Isak is silent for a few minutes, before quietly asking, “Does Mikael like dogs?”

“Yeah,” Even sighs. “He loves them.”

Isak nods. They watch the rest of the movie in silence.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so grateful for all the lovely feedback on this fic, thank you so much for commenting and leaving kudos!


	4. shirt snatchers and dinner deals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even has drinks with Eskild, sleeps in his old room and furthers the development of film making.

It takes some time but eventually, everyone in the flat has gotten used to having dinner together at six o’clock almost every weeknight. There’s even a separate group chat for dinners so that whoever is cooking, usually Even, knows if someone’s going to be late (Linn) or has grabbed a kebab or stuffed themselves on crisps (Isak). Isak eats anyway, but it’s become habit for him to let Even know so that he won’t be offended when Isak only fills his plate once. There may have been a few cases of pouting and slight passive-aggressiveness Even’s not proud of before they came up with the current system, but he doesn’t like to talk about it.

 

They’ve just sat down to eat when Even’s phone goes off.

“It’s your science partner, do you want to take it?” Even says, holding out the phone to Isak with a smirk. His dad’s picture currently fills the screen and Isak rolls his eyes before pushing Even’s hand back.

“Don’t be jealous,” Isak says, before stuffing his mouth with meatballs. “It’s not a good look.”

Even frowns at the sight of food in Isak’s mouth before answering. “I’m eating.”

“Well, hello to you too,” his dad says. “What are you having?”

“Pasta. Meatballs. Salad.” Even’s drumming his fingers on the table, envious of his flatmates who are happily munching away. “Can I call you back?”

“No, I’m taking your mum on a date tonight, but I was wondering if you wanted to stay the night tomorrow? There’s some mice in your room, I thought you could catch them.”

“Funny. But yeah, I could come by.”

“Oh, by the way, is Isak there?” His dad says, “I haven’t seen him since you gave him the book, I want to know what he thought of it.”

Even looks over to see Isak take another huge bite of his pasta, his cheeks bulging slightly. He looks so content, Even should just let him be. On the other hand, Even’s hungry and his dad just gave him the perfect solution.

“Of _course_ Isak’s here, he’d love to talk to you,” Even says, smiling broadly when Isak’s head snaps up, pausing mid-chew. “He’s right here, hang on.”

Isak waves his hand around, pointing to his mouth and then shaking it in a non-verbal no. When Even simply puts the phone down next to Isak’s plate, the hand transforms into giving Even the finger before Isak picks it up.

He gulps down his food before coughing a little. “Hello?” He says a little hoarsely. “Oh, hi!”

Even immediately tucks into his food, watching as Isak drags his fork around his pasta, twirling it a little as he listens intently to whatever physics nonsense Even’s dad’s talking about. “Yeah,” Isak says, “Mhm. Oh really? No, I haven’t read that one but I- no, that’s alright, I’ve seen it at the library. Yeah.” He nods a couple of times before freezing a little, looking up and blushing a little as he sees Even watching him.

Even nods at him, exaggerating his interested listener face, getting an eye roll in return. “I don’t know,” Isak says. “I don’t think so, let me check.” He angles the phone away slightly, catching Even’s eye. “Did you read it?”

Even stares incredulously at him for a second. “No?”

“Okay.” Isak slides the phone back. “He didn’t read it. I know. Oh, that’s- Um. Sure. Thank you.” Isak bites his lip, looking a little nervous. “Yeah, I will. Alright. Bye.”

The phone is handed back to Even and he continues the conversation for a few minutes, a little distracted by the way Isak is continuously smiling through the rest of his meal.

 

*

 

There’s calmness in coming back to his old room, spending time alone in it after his parents have gone to sleep. Even sits on the windowsill and follows the lives of the lights outside, slowly disappearing one by one. There’s still so much of him in this room, he feels it surround him and makes him feel a little safer than before, but there’s also a sense of loneliness he doesn’t recognize. 

Whoever he was when he moved out, he’s not the same now. He supposes most of it is heartbreak, but there’s also a responsibility in living alone that’s made him judge his former self a little for the carelessness with which he handled his life. If he’s not taking care of himself, he’s not going to be taken care of.

The thought both scares and relaxes him.

 

“Did you sleep well?” His mum hands him the juice, making grabby hands for the paper lying next to Even. He hands it over.

“Yeah, fine. Forgot that I can hear you snore through the walls, though,” he says, already smiling in anticipation for her response.

She doesn’t disappoint. “Excuse me, I have never snored a day in my life. Your dad sounds like a rhino when he sleeps, but I am completely innocent.”

His dad raises his coffee cup in a toast. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says. “And also, you snore.”

Even laughs a little as his mum hits him over the head with the paper.

“Coming home to spread mean rumours in my own house,” she mutters. “Should have confiscated your key when I had the chance.”

“I would’ve had let you in,” his dad whispers dramatically.

“Thanks,” Even says drily. “What are you doing today?”

“Working and then going climbing,” his dad says.

“Climbing?” Even asks, sharing a look with his mum. She rolls her eyes but still looks fond as his dad begins to describe the wonders of indoor climbing and how it’s going to make him build muscles in a ‘completely revolutionary way’.

“I don’t know how revolutionary it’s going to be, honey. People have been climbing rocks for centuries,” his mum says, giving him a pat on the back. “It’s good that you’re trying to get stronger, though. Remember last year when you couldn’t bring the suit cases up after our trip to Spain?”

“Maybe if _someone_ ,” his dad throws a pointed look at Even, “hadn’t decided to bring home a bunch of rocks, the bags wouldn’t have been that heavy.”

“They were pretty rocks,” Even shrugs. “They’re in our kitchen window now.”

“Really? The others let you keep them there?” his mum asks.

“Linn doesn’t mind and I don’t think Isak’s even noticed, to be honest,” Even says. “He’s a little scatter-brained when it comes to decorating.”

“He’s probably just too nice to say something,” his mum says. “Have you started the cooking lessons yet?”

“Yep,” Even says. “We made a quiche the other day, spinach and feta cheese. He’s getting better, we had some problems with the dough at first, but he fixed it all by himself. He’s got a scientific brain, so all I had to do was get him to approach it as a lab experiment. Went rather well after that, actually. He’s really smart.”

He fusses with his tea for a minute, making sure that it’s done steeping and pulls the bag out before looking back up. His mum is resting her chin in his hand, looking at him with a small smile. What’s even more disturbing, his dad is doing the exact same thing.

“What?”

“Nothing,” they say simultaneously.

He narrows his eyes at them, but they both feign innocence, immediately starting up a conversation about changes that needs to be made to the way they’re organizing the kitchen shelves.

 

He manages to catch his dad by the door, in the middle of putting his shoes on. “Hey,” he says, leaning against the wall. “You know when you called yesterday?” 

“Yeah.” His dad always whistles a little when tying his shoelaces. It used to annoy Even to no end, but now it just feels homey.

“What did you say to Isak? When he got a little flustered?”

“I pointed out that he’s the only one I’ve met who’s gotten that deep into the theories presented in the book and that we should have lunch sometime to discuss it,” his dad says. “And how his parents are lucky in having such a clever son.”

“Oh.” Even shoves his hands down his pockets to prevent them from flying up to cover his mouth like a Disney princess who’s just sighted a rainbow-colored unicorn. “I’m sure he’d love that.”

“Well you never know with teenagers, do you?” His dad stands up, buttoning up his coat. “Hopefully he won’t forget about physics the minute a pretty face walks by.”

“He’s gay, dad,” Even says exasperatedly, pretty sure that it was mentioned when they talked about last years Pride march, and how it passed just down the street from the flat, during the moving in dinner.

“What, you saying guys can’t be pretty?” His dad says, a growing smile on his face. “Because I’m think that’s rather sexist. In fact, I remember a young man bringing a PowerPoint presentation into the living room once to explain how compliments and insults regarding looks are often gendered and we should know better than to limit our expressions according to patriarchal structures.”

Even narrows his eyes at him. “Did you memorize all of that so you could make fun of me later?”

“Don’t be silly, I don’t need that to make fun of you,” his dad says. “It was pretty advanced for a thirteen-year-old, though, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m remarkable,” Even says primly.

His dad gives him a hug, squeezing a little extra before letting go and ruffling Even’s hair. “Indeed.”

 

*

 

_do you want to grab a beer? or some wine? a drink with a little pink umbrella, maybe?_

Even smiles.

_Sure, do you want to come over?_

The response is immediate. _No I want to show off. Let’s go to a club and get messy._

_I’m in._

 

“You’re doing what?” Isak’s voice is completely flat. 

“I’m going out with Eskild,” Even says as he searches through his closet, determined to find the shirt that makes his shoulders look proper amazing. He hasn’t seen it in a while, probably lost it somewhere after having been washed. He turns around and notices the shirt Isak’s wearing underneath his hoodie.

He narrows his eyes. “Take off your hoodie.”

“Why?”

“Do it,” Even says, crossing his arms.

Isak frowns at him a little, before pulling down the zipper. The moment he sees the print of the t-shirt he’s wearing, he pulls it back up. “I’m very busy actually, I should get going.”

“Isak.”

“Yes?” He’s doing a very good job of looking innocent, but his foot nervously tapping is giving him away.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“Nope.”

“Then why won’t you take off your hoodie?” Even asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I’m… insecure about my body,” Isak says.

Despite himself, Even snorts. “Give me my shirt.”

“Fine,” Isak grumbles. He gets his hoodie off and pulls the shirt over his head. There’s only a brief moment where Isak’s half-naked before the hoodie is back on, but the sight of his bare skin still makes Even blush.

“Thanks,” he says, turning away to change into it.

“You do understand that I’ve been wearing that all day,” Isak says. “Not on purpose!” he adds when Even throws him a pointed look, “I’m just saying, it might smell.”

Even buries his nose in the fabric. It smells familiar, warm, the way his own clothes usually smell after a Sunday morning spent with Isak on the couch. “It’s alright,” Even shrugs. “You need to start doing your laundry in time.”

“I know, I know,” Isak says, “I just don’t care enough to do it, and you have so many shirts, what’s the point of not sharing?”

“Mine are too big for you,” Even points out.

“No they’re not,” Isak says. “They’re supposed to be like that. It’s, you know, fashion.”

“Or laziness.”

“How dare you?”

Even smiles. “Do you want me to teach you how to do the laundry?”

“I know how to do it,” Isak says, plopping down on Even’s bed. “I just don’t like it.“

“What do you like?” Even asks.

Isak hums, deep in thought. “I don’t mind the dishes, I guess.”

Even finishes fussing with his hair and holds out a hand for Isak to shake. When Isak scrunches up his nose, Even rolls his eyes and drags his hand on his jeans before holding it out again. “I’ll do your laundry if you’ll do my dishes.”

Isak shakes it. “Done.”

 

It’s been a while since Even's gone to a club, his nights out usually ending up in a house party or at a dinky café somewhere, drinking coffee in the early morning hours. Eskild is definitely in his element though, greeting the bouncers by name and only having to wave his hand to have an elaborate drink put in front of him within minutes.

Even gets a glass of water and no flack about it from Eskild, which improves Even’s opinion of him immensely.

“So,” Even says when they’ve wrestled their way to a table in the back. “Is this your spot?”

“One of them,” Eskild says. “There are always good people here. It’s where I first met Isak, actually.”

“Really?” Even can’t help the surprise in his voice, this place not even being remotely close to the kind of clubs he’d imagine Isak frequenting.

“He wasn’t here to have fun, he was here to get wasted,” Eskild says, gesticulating a little wildly with his glass. “And he got me instead. Rent not included.”

Even laughs. “That’s a good deal. He likes you a lot.”

“And he only says it when I can’t hear it,” Eskild says, sounding fond. “The little bastard.”

His gaze is caught up on one of the guys on the dance floor, totally in his own little world. Eskild smiles. “What do you think of him?”

Even looks him over, “He’s hot.”

“Right? I’ll give it an hour or so, see how he holds up.” Eskild takes a sip. “Are you on the prowl? Or are you tied up already?” His tone is innocent enough, but he’s watching Even closely.

Even wonders how much Eskild knows, if there’s been any discussion of his pathetic love life between Isak and Eskild. He forces a smile and tries not to think about it. 

“Tied up sounds nice, haven’t done that in a while,” Even says, going for levity and accepts the high-five from Eskild when he offers it. “But no, I’m not.”

“Not tied up or not looking?”

“Both.” Even follows a drop of condensation down the glass with his finger. “It’s complicated.”

Eskild nods. “Well, the good news is that you don’t have to think about it tonight. I’m very good at being distracting.”

“I’m sure you are,” Even says, clinking their glasses together.

 

Even’s drunk. He didn’t plan it, didn’t even mean for it to happen, but there was a boy who recommended a drink that could “like, literally change your life” and Even was in too good of a mood not to order it. 

It may not have changed his life but it did change his night. Eskild is good at keeping up with him and making sure that every third glass is water, which is slightly less than needed but better than nothing at all. They’re on the dance floor, twirling madly and getting caught up in the euphoric atmosphere that only comes after midnight.

And in this moment, Even is happy. He’s not thinking about being rejected, or being cold, or being alone. He feels like he belongs and he hugs Eskild close, kisses his cheek in thanks for inviting him out.

 

They stumble onto the bus together, Eskild getting off a couple stops before Even. Even waves out the window until Eskild is gone in the night, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. The feeling of invincibility is slowly disappearing, leaving him to go back to his usual self.

He wishes he didn’t have to, because the memories of certain events become even more maudlin with alcohol in his veins. He gets off the bus and walks the two minutes home. As he puts the key in the door, he can hear the TV playing inside.

Isak is sitting on the couch, phone in his hand. He looks up when Even walks in, smiles at him. “You look like you had a good night.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” Isak takes a closer look at him. “Didn’t you?”

Even slumps down next to Isak, picks up the remote and restlessly starts flipping through the channels.

“Some guy kissed Mikael,” he says, almost surprised to hear his own voice. He’s known for a while that he’s going to tell Isak about what happened, but he hadn’t planned to do it now.

Isak puts down his phone and turns to face him. “Tonight?” He asks, a frown on his face. “I thought you were with Eskild.”

“Not tonight, ages ago. Well, a few weeks or something.” Even scoots further down so his feet can rest on the coffee table. “His name is Anders. All the guys thought he was a creep to do it and now Mik buys his coffee somewhere else.”

“His coffee?”

“The guy works at a KB near uni.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Did they- what did they say about it?” Isak asks, shuffling a little closer so that their arms nudge. Even leans into the touch.

“They said that he was wrong to kiss him, that it wasn’t okay to do that. And Mikael felt really bad because Anders thought Mik had feelings for him but Mik was _just talking_.” Even clears his throat, voice gone raspy. “I’ve made this whole thing up in my head where I thought it was different with me. It’s not different. It’s never been different.”

Isak is quiet for a moment and Even can feel his eyes on him, taking in what must surely be a pathetically pining look on his face.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking him,” Isak says eventually. “You know that, Even.” His voice is soft and Even wants to live inside it, surrounded by all the safety and comfort it provides.

“I know,” he says because he doesn’t want Isak to doubt that, doesn’t want him to think that Even doubts it. “I just forget sometimes.”

 

Even wakes up to the sun in his face and Isak on the sofa opposite him. He looks younger in his sleep, curled up under a too-small blanket, head tucked into his bunched up hoodie. Even stays where he is for a few minutes, trying to stave off the building headache threatening to overtake him and to make sense of what happened last night. 

He remembers their conversation, Even spilling all his secrets to Isak like he’s, quite frankly, been needing to do for some time. He’s always known it was going to come out in some way, shape or form, and he’d much rather have told Isak than one of the guys or, even worse, Mikael himself.

Eventually, he drags himself out to the bathroom, brushing his teeth after he’s done peeing. He looks a little worse for wear, squinting against the harsh light, but he’s feeling lighter than before. At least now, one other person knows everything.

Isak is up when he gets back out into the living room, idly scrolling through his phone but putting it down the moment he notices Even.

“Morning,” he says, voice a little rough.

“Hi.” Even waves a little, making Isak smile. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Not really. Do you?”

Even shakes his head. He sits back down on the sofa, folding his knees up to rest his chin on. “Sorry for unloading on you last night.”

“That’s okay. It’s the reason we’re not living by ourselves, right?” Isak says.

“I’m just living here for the economical benefits,” Even says. “Any other perks are purely incidental.”

Isak snorts. “Of course, how could I forget.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, Isak going back to his phone and Even getting lost in thought. Linn comes out to join them some time later, sitting down next to Even and turning on the TV. She even rests her head on his shoulder, making warmth spread through him.

When he looks up, Isak’s watching them with a fond expression. Even wiggles his eyebrows at him and pulls Linn closer.

 

They spend the entire day together, only going outside for groceries and to grab pizza for lunch. Isak brings his PlayStation out to the living room and they all get a little too competitive. 

Linn disappears for a nap in the afternoon while Isak and Even watches way too many episodes of bad soap operas. They have fun with tearing the characters apart though, trying to anticipate their next move and rewrite the scenes to be even more torrid than they turn out to be.

They make pasta bolognese for dinner, Isak cutting the onion in meticulous pieces and stirring the sauce with a concentrated look on his face. Even digs up some salad and takes it on himself to go and wake Linn up, managing it in an impressive five minutes and allowing her to bring her duvet out to the kitchen.

They eat in comfortable silence, only broken by Isak occasionally rapping along to the playlist playing on his laptop, Even humming along to some of the choruses. After promising to do the dishes before work tomorrow, Linn goes back to her room.

“I was worried she was gonna hate living here without Eskild,” Isak says when she’s closed the door behind her. “Seems alright though.”

“It’s cause you’re so charming,” Even says, “she just can’t resist.”

Isak rolls his eyes but plays along. “The ladies can never get enough. I am a legend in these halls, you know?”

“The halls outside of the bedroom, you mean?”

“Hey!” Isak throws a piece of salad at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you a legend at sleeping with women? Cause that would be a waste,” Even says, smirking.

“Rude,” Isak says. “But no, I guess not.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, before looking back up at Even. “You know the stuff you told me yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I just thought… From what you told me, they didn’t say anything about that guy-“

“Anders,” Even says.

“Right, Anders, they didn’t say anything bad about him being gay.”

“Just that Mikael’s not.”

“Well, yeah.” Isak sighs. “That sucks, and I get that, but like, they weren’t against the fact that Anders is.”

“I guess,” Even says. “I’m not gay though.”

“I know.” Isak fiddles a little with the tablecloth, looking a little out of his depth. “I just mean that you don’t have to be worried about telling them that you're not straight. They’re not going to stop being your friends.”

It’s not that Even’s had some sort of plan behind not coming out to his friends, he just slid into this position where he’s talked about the girls he’s attracted to rather than bring up the guys. It used to not be a big deal, since he hasn’t tried to hide it but just waited for a good opportunity to tell them, maybe when he’d gotten actual feelings for a guy rather than fleeting moments of lust.

Unfortunately, those feelings didn’t happen before Mikael somehow wormed his way into Even’s mind, and Even was stuck between wanting to tell them about him being pan and not wanting them to figure out that it’s Mikael he’s into. It used to be because he wasn’t sure if Mikael felt the same way, but now it’s a much bigger fear than that. He doesn’t want to become a persona non grata to his friends, no matter how much he’ll have to hide behind bland comments about girls at parties.

He’s too tired and too hung over to even think about how and when he’s going to get out of the situation he’s created for himself, so he pushes it to the back of his brain, standing up and giving Isak a somewhat forced smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Do you want to come with me to look for a new lens to my camera after?”

“I have homework.” Isak does smile back, but there’s disappointment in his eyes.

Even chooses to pretend not to see it, even if the feeling of letting someone close to him down adds to his headache, making it three times worse than before.

 

*

 

It’s different almost every time, but Even can definitely feel his brain speeding up and his thoughts starting to change direction in a way they haven’t done since his last episode. He’s not been diagnosed for that long, but long enough to recognise the signs, at least most of the time. 

He sends a group message to the guys, not wanting to keep them in the dark about the fact that he might contact them with irrational ideas later. It’s panned out that way lately, he’s gotten great ideas for a project and immediately roped in the rest of his boys to help him with it. They know how he works by now and never judges him for it, so he thinks giving them a heads up is the least he can do.

They all respond with heart emojis and kissing smileys, reassuring him that they’re gonna be ready for whatever world changing invention he’s gonna pitch to them.

He really doesn’t deserve friends like these. Except sometimes, he thinks he does.

 

*

 

The first thing he does when he gets home is to put up a sign on the fridge, asking for a flat meeting. He goes into his room to collect the notebook with important information and, just as he’s starting to feel ready, hears a key in the door.

Isak and Linn comes into the kitchen, carrying grocery bags and talking about The Great British Bake Off which, apparently, is the ultimate TV-show. Even makes a mental note to check it out before he pointedly clears his throat.

They both look up at him. “Hi,” Isak says, smiling.

Even points to the note on the fridge. It’s not that he can’t just tell them, but he spent a good few minutes on it and he’d like them both to see themselves in cartoon form before he has to ask any favours of them.

Isak dutifully moves closer to read the note, chuckling as he looks at the drawings. “These are good.”

“Thanks. Are you available?” Even asks, knowing he sounds a little ridiculous but wanting them to take it seriously.

Isak looks up at him. “Sure. Do I need to dress up or something? Sounds formal.”

“No, you just have to sit down. In whatever clothes you choose,” Even says. He can’t say he disagrees with Isak’s current dress code mostly consisting of tight jeans and baggy t-shirts, but he wouldn’t mind seeing Isak wear something different every now and then. A well-fitted tux or just an upscale suit would make him look gorgeous.

Maybe Even should buy him one. Maybe he should take him to the tailor his dad uses whenever he needs his wedding tux taken out. Maybe they should go right now, before it closes and Even has to call him to open up the shop as a special favour. Maybe-

“Even?” Isak is lightly touching his arm. “Did you want to have the meeting now?”

“Yes,” he says, reeling in his thoughts as best he can. “If it’s alright with you.”

Isak and Linn have already stored away the food, bags strewn over the counters. Linn has flopped down on one of the chairs, sipping a glass of water. Isak takes a seat opposite her, pushing out the chair next to him in Even’s direction.

“Okay, so I need to ask you something,” Even says, sitting down. “I’m pretty sure I’m about to, um, I mean, it’s pretty clear that I’m going into an episode.”

Linn looks a little confused, so Even tries again. “Basically, my brain is going really fast and I just wanted to check if that’s okay with you that I stay here. I can hang out at my parents’ for a while, that’s not a problem, so don’t feel obligated or whatever.”

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t it be okay for you to be here?” Isak asks.

“It can get kind of a lot,” Even says, squirming a little under their eyes. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” Linn says. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, what the fuck? You live here, Even, of course you can stay,” Isak says, sounding upset.

Even breathes out slowly, trying to get used to the notion that they actually want him around, manic or not. “Okay. If it gets too much, just tell me or call someone or something. Just, please don’t-“

“Nothing’s gonna happen.” Isak looks him right in the eye. “Nothing is going to happen that will make us want you to leave.”

“Um, alright,” Even says. He straightens up a little, holding up his notebook. “Here is the contact information to my parents, and my therapist. I have it in my phone and in my wallet, but just in case.”

“Okay,” Isak says, reaching for the book. Even hands it over without hesitation, watching silently as Isak tears out the first page, folds it in half and sticks it on the fridge. “Done. What else?”

Even smiles a little, can feel his blood start to hum under his skin and knows that he’s probably going to be neck-deep in making something for Isak before too long. There’s one final thing he needs to say before he runs too far away from his rational side. “Um, there’s- I don’t want to say something that I’ll regret,” he says, looking at Isak. “About… feelings and stuff.”

“Oh,” Isak says. “Right. Do you want me to keep your phone or something?”

“No,” Even says, “It’ll probably be face to face if it happens, but if you hear me talk about going over, can you try to talk me out of it? If you can’t, that’s totally fine and I’m responsible for it, whatever happens. But,” he bites his lip. “I really don’t want him to find out like that.”

Isak nods. “I’ll try,” he says softly.

Linn looks between them. “There’s some food on my shelf you can take. It’s mostly left-over pizza, but if you want it, that’s okay,” she says.

“Thanks,” Even says, smiling at her. “I appreciate it.”

 

His mum calls a little more frequently the next few days, until he simply sends her a message every morning and every night, updating her on how he’s feeling. He doesn’t want her to worry, but he also doesn’t want to field multiple phone calls a day.

His dad takes him out for lunch between classes and it’s such a relief to see him hum and aw about the menu, the same way he’s done since Even was a kid. They know exactly what they’re getting but his dad will always spend at least ten minutes deciding, manic episode or not. There’s a safety in that, in the ritual of it that Even likes. He writes down a few reasons why when he’s in his last lecture, too distracted to follow the topic at hand.

He thinks about taking a picture of the page and sending it to his dad, but ends up getting a starter kit for scrapbooking instead, determined to make the letter the prettiest it can get. All in all, it’s a good investment.

 

*

 

Three days later, it’s nearing daybreak and Even haven’t slept. He’s been busy with developing what’s going to be a game changer for his final project, forever revolutionize the way close ups are shot. His old camera has been dissected and the pieces are tumbling over the edges of the desk but he’s so close to getting there, he can’t even feel the metal pressing into his socked feet.

A knock on the door halts his fingers for a second, before they start working again at the sight of Isak coming in.

“I’m almost done, it’s gonna be amazing,” he says, nicking his finger top on a sharp edge. “Ouch, fuck.”

“Is this for school?” Isak asks and Even is reminded that Isak’s never spends time in the film department, still struggling with his high school exams and far from able to understand the magnitude of what Even’s building just from the sight of it.

He waves Isak over to stand next to him, starts gesturing and explaining the various pieces and how they’re going to work together for ultimate effect. Isak nods along, asks a few questions Even thinks are far better than most people would be able to come up with, seemingly understanding the basics of it rather well. After Even’s done outlining the final problem with the design, Isak stretches a little beside him.

“I was thinking of going for a walk, you want to come?” Isak asks, touching his arm lightly.

“Now?”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Come on, take a break. Maybe you’ll know how to make the last piece fit when we get back.”

Even ponders the idea for a minute, looks from his camera to Isak and back again. “Can we stop by the tech shop on the way back? I need to buy some stuff.”

“Maybe, I don’t know if they’re open now though,” Isak says. “We’ll see when we get there.”

“Okay,” Even says, letting everything drop down and hold out a hand for Isak. “Don’t step on anything, there’s stuff on the floor.”

Isak takes his hand and they make it out of the room together. When Even’s about to put his shoes on, Isak halts him and asks him to sit down. “I just want to check something,” he says, waiting until Even’s sat down before he squats down and puts one of Even’s feet on top of his bended knee. He strokes his thumb over the sole of Even’s feet, the sound of metal pieces hitting the floor the only thing breaking the quiet.

“And the other one,” Isak mumbles, doing the same with Even’s other foot. “Alright, all done.”

Even stands up, immediately feeling the difference. “Wow. You should be a doctor or something. Acupuncturist maybe. Or a gym teacher. I always pulled something in gym class, you should have been there to make it feel better.”

Isak smiles as he pulls on his oldest, worn-out sneakers. “Maybe. You’re obsessed with me working with kids, aren’t you?”

“You’d be good with them,” Even says, stepping out the door. Isak slides Even’s shoes over and he stuffs his feet in them impatiently. “Like, all calm and stuff.”

“Thanks, Even,” Isak says, smiling softly at him. “Let’s go, yeah?”

Even nods, bouncing down the stairs as Isak locks up behind them. They get out into the darkness and heads towards the nearest park. Isak is quite silent, so Even takes it on himself to fill their night with conversation, going over his idea for the camera improvement again before sliding into describing the age-old argument he has with his dad about the pros and cons of having a dog.

Halfway to the store, Even gets too hot to keep his shirt on and tosses it away. Isak catches it and fashions it into a toga, the blue looking nice against his blonde hair.

“It looks nice against your hair,” Even says, unable and unwilling to keep the thought to himself. His arms cool rapidly with no cover, his t-shirt getting his temperature down a bit. Even stretches a little, enjoying the pull in his muscles. He glances at Isak again, smiles. “You look like Caesar.”

“Don’t know if he’d be okay with that comparison,” Isak says. “He was pretty full of himself.”

“That’s true,” Even says, “Hey, instead of going to the store, do you think we should go out? I feel like dancing.”

Isak’s quiet for a moment, his voice hesitant when he speaks again. “I don’t know, Even, I’m pretty tired. I feel like going home.”

“No, we can’t go home now,” Even says, “we have to go out. Don’t you want to dance?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Isak says.

“You’re boring,” Even says. “I want to dance with Mikael. Do you think he wants to go out? We should go over and ask.”

“No,” Isak says, grabbing hold of Even’s arm but releasing it again as soon as Even tries to wriggle out of his grip. “He’s probably sleeping.”

“We could still go visit,” Even says, already turning to walk in the direction of Mikael’s house. “If he’s sleeping, I could just join him. He smells really good, I just want to lie down next to him. Maybe kiss him,” he reaches over to poke the space just under Isak’s ear, “right there. And then I want him to wake up to realize that I’m there and that he doesn’t want me to leave, ever. I’ll kiss him on the mouth, and on his arms and his face and then I’ll- I’ll run a hand through his hair, it’s really soft actually, and then I’ll get down on my knees and just-“

“Okay, okay,” Isak interrupts, trying to put some distance between them. Even hadn’t even noticed he’d been moving closer to Isak while he was talking, his chest now pressed against Isak’s side, his hands on Isak’s back and stomach.

A brilliant idea forms in Even’s head. “Why don’t I just show you?” he asks. “So you can say if you think it’s good or not.”

“What?” Isak says, freezing in the middle of the sidewalk. That’s alright though, because no one else is around, and this is the best thing that could happen.

“There’s no one here, let me just-“ he says, getting a hand under Isak’s shirt to stroke his warm skin. “I don’t want him not to like it, and you’re always honest with me, you’ll tell me if I’m good.”

“You don’t want to do this, Even, let’s just go home,” Isak says, gently grabbing hold of his wrists, pulling them away.

Even whines at the loss of contact, darting in to press kisses along Isak’s jaw, moving around so Even’s standing in front of him. “It’s okay, don’t worry,” he says as he moves his mouth down Isak’s throat, licking the skin there. “It won’t be like I’m cheating, I’ll just pretend that you’re him.”

One second he’s sucking on Isak’s collarbone, and the next he’s on the ground, looking up at a horrified Isak. “I’m so sorry. Let me help you up, I just- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you, sorry, sorry, sorry. Fuck.”

Isak’s clearly upset, so Even does what his mum has always done in situations like this. He gets up and promptly winds his arms around Isak, hugging him tight for a few seconds before releasing him.

“It’s fine, I’ll just go to Mikael’s myself, you don’t have to come,” he says, giving Isak a smile before starting to cross the street.

“Even!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Isak!” Even shouts over his shoulder, giving a wave. Before he’s even come to the other side, however, Isak’s there with a hand on his arm. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Isak answers. “I changed my mind, I’ll come with you, yeah?”

“Good! I like it when you come with,” Even says. 

Isak’s eyes look a little watery, so Even catches Isak’s hand in his again, swaying them to make Isak feel better. They continue down the street, but before they can turn down towards the part of town where Mikael lives, he’s reminded of something.

“Do you think I should bring the camera to show Mikael?” Even asks, stopping abruptly.

“What do you mean?” Isak says, his voice a little scratchy.

“He’s really good at this stuff, he’ll know how to fix it,” Even says, already turning around. “It’ll be stupid to go over there without it.”

“I guess you’re right,” Isak says.

Even nods, having had another idea for how the camera could be improved with Mikael’s help and he immediately shares it with Isak, knowing that he’ll appreciate it.

 

They get home long after the sun’s come up, and Isak falls asleep on the sofa before Even has time to gather all the parts needed for Mikael to give his input.

Even thinks about going by himself but he doesn’t feel like leaving Isak alone, and maybe they can do something in a couple of hours.

He sits down and pulls Isak’s feet onto his lap, unable to stop fidgeting with the blankets, tightening them around Isak’s ankles and waist, making sure Isak’s won’t be cold.

He doesn’t sleep but Isak does and that, really, is the most important thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's coming along, slowly but surely. as always, thank you to tess for being a brilliant beta and thank you to everyone for leaving kudos and comments!


	5. dream trips and dimly lit bedrooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is bright until it's not.

When Isak finally wakes up the next morning, Even’s already been tinkering in the kitchen for what feels like hours. He’s borrowed most of what Linn had on her shelf and has gone through Isak’s emergency stash of junk food in the cupboard, all to create a breakfast buffet as diverse as possible.

“Good morning!” He says as Isak makes his way into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I made food for us.”

“I am, yeah. Thanks.” Isak sits down on a chair, eyeing the way Even’s flipping a pancake in the pan. “You’re good at that.”

“I’ve been practising,” Even says, beaming over at Isak. “Why did you sleep so long, it was boring without you.”

“Sorry,” Isak says, and he looks it. “I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s alright,” Even says, waving away his apology. “You’ll just stay up with me tonight instead.”

“Okay,” Isak says quietly. “I’ll stay up with you.”

 

They’re halfway through eating when the intercom buzzes. Even runs over to answer it.

“It’s me, can I come up?” Mikael asks and if Even ever doubted fate, he doesn’t anymore.

“Of course, come up, come up,” he says, pressing the button multiple times to make sure the door stays open for Mikael.

He anxiously bounces on his feet for thirty long seconds before Mikael appears in the bottom of the final staircase, cheeks flushed from the wind outside.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” Mikael says, smiling up at him. He immediately folds Even into a hug when he reaches him, swaying them back and forth. “How are you?”

“Great,” Even says, squeezing a little before letting go and instead grabbing hold of Mikael’s hand to tug him into the flat. “You want breakfast?”

“Sure,” Mikael says, “If there’s any left overs.”

“Oh, I made lots of food, don’t worry about it.” They reach the kitchen, and Even pulls out a chair for Mikael, pulling a little on his hand to get him to sit down. “I’ll make some more pancakes, hang on.”

“That’s alright, you’ve got plenty already,” Mikael says, reaching for the plate. “Good morning, sorry for just barging in,” he says to Isak, who’s been watching them with a slightly strained expression.

When Mikael speaks to him, however, Isak’s expression softens into a smile. Even can relate. “That’s no problem. We’ve got too much food anyway.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Mikael says. There’s a long look exchanged between the two of them then, and Even’s too happy about his two best friends getting along for him to even mind being left out.

Isak’s look then shifts to where Even is still holding Mikael’s hand, and he clears his throat. “Even?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you? In my room?” Isak looks calm, but there’s an insistence in his voice that makes Even agree immediately.

 

“Um, do you remember what we talked about yesterday?” Isak says when the door is closed behind them. “About you wanting to go over to Mikael’s?”

“Yeah,” Even says, not sure what Isak wants and distracted by the thought of Mikael sitting all alone in the kitchen. He should get out there to keep him company. Hold his hand again; maybe sit on the same chair, share a plate.

“I don’t think you should mention that to him,” Isak says.

“Why not?”

“I just think that maybe you shouldn’t talk about your… feelings today.”

“You were the one who said I should tell him,” Even says, already halfway through the room, determined to get back to Mikael before he disappears again. “Remember? You said that ages ago, that the guys would be fine with it. Mikael’s one of the guys.”

“I know, I know,” Isak says. “But maybe wait a few days, just to see if it’s really the right thing to do. Just-“ He comes up behind Even, slamming his hand against the door just as Even’s about to open it.

Even looks at him, noticing the slight panic in his eyes but doesn’t understand why it’s there. He tries to pull Isak’s hand away, but he stubbornly holds on, effectively keeping the door shut.

Isak closes his eyes for a second, breathing out slowly. When he opens them again, he looks more determined than before. “You can’t tell him now, Even.”

“Why?”

“Because he might not want you too. Remember what happened with Anders? You don’t want to hurt him, do you?” Isak says.

“No,” Even says. “But it’s not going to be like that, I’m just gonna walk up and kiss him, and he’ll kiss me back and it’s gonna be so fucking good.”

“What if he hates you? Huh? What if you go in there, and you make him hate you? You know that could happen,” Isak says. “It’s not gonna be good at all because you’ll hurt him and he’ll never want to be friends with you again.”

Within Even’s cloud of invincibility, a small seed of doubt begins to grow. Maybe he should wait to tell Mikael until he has a better plan for it. He could invite him on a trip, maybe. He could go to Mikael’s right now, while Mikael is still busy eating, and borrow his passport so that Even can book them both flights for tomorrow.

He thanks Isak for his input and explains his new plan. Isak nods along, but it looks a little shaky.

“How about instead of you going over there, I’ll do it and you can just talk to Mikael a little. Just distract him so I can get the passport and then come back.”

“That’s actually better, because he’ll never suspect you to go to his house,” Even says. “Alright, let’s do that. I need to tell him about the camera anyway.”

Isak finally lets up his hold on the door. Even walks out with a spring in his step, his heart beating fast at the idea of him and Mikael alone together.

He doesn’t notice Isak not coming out of the room, too caught up with his conversation with Mikael and Linn, who’s finally come out of her room. It is somewhat niggling at the back of his mind, but he forgets it when his parents pop in for a surprise visit. The idea of going abroad with Mikael is soon long gone, he’s come up with way better scenarios for telling him. 

It’s going to be amazing.

 

*

 

There are no sounds. Not from the living room, or from the kitchen, or from Isak’s room. There’s no music. No talking. No laughter.

His favourite Moomin mug is sitting on his bedside table, filled to the brim with tea. It’s steaming hot and looks like it'd taste very nice, but Even has no desire to drink it. His door is left slightly open, and through the crack he can see the daylight streaming in from the window in the living room.

He turns towards the wall to block it out and falls back asleep.

 

*

 

Even wakes up to Mutta sitting on top of his shins. He seems engrossed in the book on his lap, one hand drawing absentminded patterns on Even’s knee over the duvet and the other one turning the pages.

“When did you get here?” Even asks, his words coming out hoarse. He has to clear his throat a couple of time for the rough feeling to subside a little, still feeling like he’s spent the last days eating gravel.

Mutta looks up, smiles at him when their eyes meet. “A few hours ago, I don’t know. I’m lost in this book, bro, it’s pretty amazing.” He holds it up and if Even was in a better place, he would’ve smiled when he catches sight of the cover. “Have you read it? Isak leant it to me.”

“No,” Even says. His dad’s book still looks as frail as it did when he brought it home for Isak, but now it has multi-coloured post-it notes marking a bunch of the pages. “It’s good?”

“Yeah, it is. At first, I was a little bit intimidated cause physics really isn’t my thing, but now it’s starting to make sense.” Mutta re-opens the book, getting ready to read again.

“Mutta?” Even says, summoning his last bit of energy to continue talking. “You’re sitting on my legs.”

“I know, I thought it’d help. Like, ground you a bit or something,” Mutta says. “Am I too heavy?”

Even looks at him for a bit, then shakes his head slowly. “No. Thank you.”

Mutta waves it away. “It’s chill. You go back to sleep, I have a couple of chapters left before Isak’s notes run out and I’m really not going to make it without them. I’ll wake you when I get there.”

Even doesn’t respond, eyelids already feeling too heavy to keep open any longer. The last thing he feels is the weight of Mutta’s body anchoring him to reality, making sure he doesn’t just disappear completely.

 

*

 

The rest of the week passes in a blur; Even flitting in and out of consciousness as there’s people coming and going. He definitely recognises Isak’s voice and touch amongst them, stroking his hair out of his eyes and smoothing the duvet down around him. 

Linn comes in to sit at the floor by his feet, the smell of her coffee infiltrating his dreams before they turn sour and he wakes up feeling disoriented and cheated by the dullness reality brings. Sometimes she talks about her job, work mates who are either brilliant or boring, depending on the day. He doesn’t take in any of the information, but it’s a nice wall of sound to have as a weak protection against the darkest of thoughts.

Elias and Sana comes by with food from their mum, and he feels himself crying when he can’t taste any of the colours on the plate.

Mikael comes in on one of the worst days, Even not feeling tethered to the world at all. There’s a dull ache inside him when not even the sight of Mikael helps. He turns towards the wall and wishes Mikael would leave again so that Even can escape the reminder that not even love is enough.

 

*

 

It’s not like there’s a definite turning point, not one morning when he wakes up to bird song and a newfound lightness of mind but slowly, the crushing weight on his chest starts to lessen more and more.

He sits up with Linn the next time she comes in, and together they read through the emails he’s gotten from various professors during his absence. They’re all aware of the reason why he’s been gone, since he’s talked to all of them at the beginning of term, and only one of them acted like a dick about it.

He saves that email for last, waiting until Isak joins them and Even’s surrounded by warmth. The content is basically what he expected, a hint of disappointment and a wilful misunderstanding of the fact that he’s been physically unable to get out of bed, and instead claiming it’s just a cheap excuse to postpone his deadlines.

Even takes a breather after reading, closing his eyes and leaning back against the headboard of the bed. He comes back to finding Isak in the middle of writing a highly inappropriate reply, a frown on his face and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Even saves up enough energy to wrestle the laptop away from Isak and, for the first time in days, he feels laughter bubbling up inside him.

“I was gonna fix the wording,” Isak pouts, the rigidness of his posture relaxing a little after admitting defeat, the anger seeping out of him.

“I don’t think that would help,” Even says. “The sentiment was pretty clear.” He leans his head on Isak’s shoulder and feels a slight tension there, even if Isak doesn’t signal discomfort in any way.

He hasn’t yet had the energy to work through what happened before he crashed, but he knows it’s going to eat at him when he does. For now, he ignores it and smiles at Linn, who’s about to fall asleep next to him. 

“Thank you,” he says, nuzzling his head to a more comfortable position and pats Linn’s leg.

“You’re welcome,” Linn says before closing her eyes.

Isak doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t move away and right now, Even will take what he can get.

 

*

 

There’s definite warmth in the air when Even ventures outside the flat a couple of days later. He takes the long way to uni, stopping to breathe from time to time, a little overwhelmed by all the impressions.

His first class goes fine, he gets a few curious looks from people but pretends not to notice. Afterwards, he walks up to talk to the lecturer about a couple of things he’s missed. Feeling pretty good about his chances to catch up without working himself ragged, he walks back out into the sunshine.

“Even!”

He looks up to see Mikael’s beaming face across the street. Mikael holds up a hand to get him to wait and runs across the street, shouting an apology to a cyclist who has to sway to avoid crashing into him.

“Hi!” Mikael says as he skids to a halt in front of him.

“Hi,” Even says. “What’s up?”

“I bought some fruit for you, I was gonna bring it over but then I texted Linn and she said you'd gone to class,” Mikael says, holding up a plastic bag that seems to be filled with nothing but bananas and packets of raspberries. “Do you want to go to the skate park and eat some?”

“Sure,” Even says. He pauses to take in Mikael for a second, the way his hair looks ruffled from the wind, a shirt Even’s definitely borrowed at some point over the years and the hideous shorts Mikael brings out as soon as the temperatures stays over ten degrees for three days in a row.

He looks back up to meet Mikael’s eyes. “Please throw those away.” 

“What, the shorts? No way, they still fit!”

“They’re also still ugly,” Even says.

“Pfft, you’re just jealous of my style,” Mikael says, tugging on Even’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go.”

Even lets himself be pulled ahead, feeling a little unsure of where to put his hands, the memory of him having almost gone over to Mikael’s house and ruining everything still haunting him.

Thankfully, it only takes a few minutes for his body to relax and form itself around Mikael’s the way it’s done countless times before. It’s surprisingly painless to do so, his heart only barely speeding up when they touch.

 

“So what’s the deal with you and Isak?” Mikael asks after they’ve sat down on one of the benches, taking in all the skaters zooming by them. 

Even pops a raspberry in his mouth. “What do you mean?”

“You seem close,” Mikael shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, we live together, so.”

Mikael nods. He clears his throat. “Hey, remember that thing with Anders?”

Even immediately feels himself tensing up. "I do."

“And… you know those verses you found in my room?” Mikael says.

“Yeah.” Even isn’t entirely sure where this is going, but there’s dread building in his stomach and he feels like changing the topic before he loses his heart all over again.

“I’ve read them now, like properly,” Mikael says, busying himself with throwing away some of the mouldy raspberries cluttered in a corner of the pack. “Talked to Sana about it too, cause she knows people who are, you know, gay and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Even says again.

“I just- I hung out with Isak a little when you were sleeping,” Mikael says, biting his lip. “And all I could think about was like, what if he thinks I hate him?”

“He doesn’t,” Even says.

“He might,” Mikael says. “It’s not like I’ve given him any reason to think I don’t.”

Even knocks their shoulders together. “You also haven’t given him any indication that you do, right? You’re fine.”

Mikael hesitates. “He knows I’m Muslim though. That’s usually enough.”

“Hey,” Even says, waiting until Mikael looks up to meet his eyes. “Fuck that and fuck everyone who thinks like that. I know Isak and I don’t think he would ever assume that but if he did, I will yell at him and Sana will end him.”

Mikael huffs a laugh at that.

“Totally obliterate him,” Even says. “And then pull the receipts from the Quran to prove to him how wrong he is.”

“That’s true,” Mikael says. “She did say some really good things when I asked her how she read the chapters and what she thought they could mean for, like, modern society.”

“Maybe we should hang out with her instead of Elias,” Even says. “We’d definitely be less likely to get into trouble.”

“Way to put the blame on someone else,” Mikael says. “I was there when you decided to break into that theatre, you know.”

“I was manic!” Even says, a hand over his heart. “That’s not fair.”

“You still did it though,” Mikael says. He hands over a raspberry. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Even says, shrugging. There’s a sharpness pressing into his ribcage and he’s currently just waiting for it to become unbearable. It’s nothing he hasn’t felt before, it’s the feeling of guilt and regret, which almost always follows an episode. “Just nice to be out of the flat.”

He doesn’t say it’s because he’s almost certain Isak won’t forgive him for groping and scaring him. He doesn’t say that it’s because he’s not even sure if he thinks he deserves a chance to earn Isak’s forgiveness. He doesn’t say he’s scared to look Isak in the eye, face the pain he’s caused.

When Mikael smiles at him, it's even more clear that Even can’t tell him what he almost did to him and most definitely did to Isak.

It’s weird how often he omits things from the people he loves.

Thankfully, Mikael seems to sense that their conversation won’t go any further into the subject. He gets up to throw away the remnants of their impromptu fruit party.

“Come on, lets see if someone will lend us their board.”

“That is literally never going to happen,” Even says, but stands up anyway.

He gets home that night with a fresh bruise covering his hip, a half-eaten kebab in his hand and a smile on his face. The smile drops off as soon as he walks down the corridor to his room and sees the light on underneath Isak’s door.

It’s three AM.

 

*

 

”Even?” Linn is standing in his doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he says, putting his laptop down.

She walks in, closing the door behind her. “Um…”

“Do you want to sit?” Even pats the bed next to him. Linn bites her lip but walks over to sit down, pulling her legs up under her.

“I was just wondering how you knew that you were bipolar,” she says quietly. “Cause I don’t know- I think I might be?”

Even’s heart breaks a little at the way her voice shakes.

He scoots closer. “It’s different for everyone, I think. Some people have really rapid cycles of episodes and some have both manic and depressive symptoms at once. I have them less frequently, and always one after the other.”

Linn nods. “Okay.”

“I had one when I was fifteen. Scared me half to death,” Even says.

Linn timidly reaches for his hand, Even grabbing hold of hers, squeezing. He takes a few breaths until he’s sure he can speak again without his voice breaking.

“And then I met up with a psychologist and a psychiatrist and a doctor and a whole bunch of other people,” he says, rolling his eyes a little. “It can be a bit of a circus.”

“So you were diagnosed after your first episode?” Linn asks.

“Yeah.”

She clears her throat. “I haven’t… been to see anyone. I don’t know if I should?”

Even is a little unsure as to how to handle this, not wanting to push her into talking before she feels ready but, at the same time, desperately wanting her to get the help she needs, if she needs it. “Do you want to?”

“I don’t know.” She tucks her hair back, still holding on tightly to his hand. “Can you be bipolar without the manic episodes?”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s the combination that makes it bipolar, if you only have one of them it’s probably something else.”

“Oh,” she says.

Even looks at her, sees the rings under her eyes and recognises them for what they are. He knows the heaviness that comes with feeling lost in your own mind, unable to find a way out.

Scared that he might be overstepping, he still pushes himself to speak up. “I could come with you to see a doctor, if you’d like.”

Linn tenses up a little. “Maybe.”

“Okay,” he says. “Maybe.”

 

*

 

It’s after dinner and Isak’s come through the door right before Even put the food on the table. He seemed distracted throughout the meal and only answered Even’s questions with nods or one-word replies. 

Just as Isak’s about to walk past him, backpack slung on his shoulder, Even clears his throat. “Isak?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I talk to you?”

Linn is busy changing the bags in the trash, humming a little to herself. Even gestures towards the hallway, Isak shrugs and follows.

“I just wanted to say sorry for what happened,” Even says, desperately hoping he won’t have to get more specific. If the way Isak tenses up is any indication, he doesn’t.

“No worries,” Isak says. It doesn’t seem like he means it.

“No, it really wasn’t okay and I don’t want you to think I… do that on a regular basis,” Even says. “I mean, it’s not-“

“You were in the middle of a manic episode, you can’t be expected to answer to all the impulsive things you do,” Isak says. It sounds a little rehearsed.

“I _am_ responsible though,” Even says. “Whether my brain is going haywire or not.”

“Alright, so you’re responsible, but you were hardly rational, right?” Isak says. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Even says. “It’s really not and I can’t imagine how it felt when I just-“

“Even.” The sharp edge in Isak’s voice makes all the arguments in Even’s brain come to an immediate halt. “I said it’s fine.”

Isak walks past him, his bag bumping against Even’s arm. Even blinks the building tears away frantically, refusing to feel sorry for himself.

 

He tries to concentrate on a film he needs to review for a uni assignment, but after the first hour has gone by, he still has no clue who the main character is or even what era the film takes place in so he gives up, shutting the laptop and stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours, wondering how he’s supposed to know how to fix all the problems his brain creates.

 

*

 

The buzzer goes off just as Even’s about to pull the tea water off the stove. He jumps a little at the loudness of it, swearing a little as he half-jogs over to the door.

“Hello?”

“It is I, your favourite person and all-around angel.”

“Come on up,” Even says, smiling a little as he presses the button. He unlocks the door and goes back to his tea.

Eskild closes the door with a bang, the sound of his shoes being kicked against the wall reaching into the kitchen. “Hellooo?”

“Hi,” Even shouts back. “I’m in the kitchen.”

“Aw,” Eskild says as he walks into the room. “It’s cute how you think I’m here for you.”

“You’re not?” Even asks, pouting a little.

“Keep your pouting to yourself,” Eskild says, pushing Even’s bottom lip back in. “I’m here to see my godchild.”

“Who?”

“ISAK, OH MY GOD, COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW,” Eskild shouts, winking at Even. There’s a slight commotion down the hall before Isak skids into the kitchen.

“What is it, what’s happened?” He sounds a little out of breath, his hair sticking up in the back.

Even smiles at him, unable not to, but Isak doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m here,” Eskild says, holding his arms out for a hug.

“Ugh,” Isak says. “Seriously, Eskild? I almost broke a toe.”

Eskild beams at him. “That’s the stuff.” He turns to Even. “Are you going to stay in or do you have plans? Me and Isak have secrets to discuss.”

“No, we don’t.”

Eskild tilts his head, a smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, really? So I can just tell lovely Even here about the time you called me when you were sick and tried to find the thermometer but ended up puking all over our medicine box and then-“

“Eskild,” Isak hisses, “Shut up.”

“Alright,” Eskild says, dragging the word out. He pretends to inspect his nails, slowly scratching one of them.

Even is flooded with fondness at the sight of Isak growing more and more agitated, until he finally snaps. “Fine, we have secrets. Okay? Big secrets, huge ones.”

“That’s better,” Eskild says. “Let’s go to the dingy cave you call a room. See you later, Even. Stay tall.”

“I’ll try,” Even says, raising his teacup in salute. He clutches it with both hands, stealing its warmth while watching Eskild pulling Isak along towards Isak’s room.

If Even didn’t have his own secrets with Isak, he’d probably be jealous.

 

The guys are soon complaining over text about being bored, and Even would like to see them but is feeling a little too lazy to move, resulting in five boys invading his living room before long.

He sits squeezed between Mikael and Mutta on one of the sofas, watching as Adam is destroying Elias at Fifa. He thought about asking Isak for permission before using it, but he doesn’t want to interrupt whatever conversation him and Eskild are currently having. They’ve been gone for ages and there hasn’t been any sign of them resurfacing yet, so Even keeps an eye on the door while cheering Adam on, much to the chagrin of Elias.

“I let you all hang out at my house and eat my food, you know,” Elias mutters as Adam scores again.

“So does Adam,” Mikael says, another of Adam’s cheerleaders, “and his mum likes me better than your mum does.”

“That’s not true,” Elias says, “my mum likes everyone.”

“She likes Even best though,” Mutta says, patting Even’s leg.

“I like Even best too,” Mikael says, burrowing into Even’s side. After a second’s delay, Even throws his arm around Mikael’s shoulder, barely even noticing the slight uptake of his heartbeat as it disappears quickly enough. He tries not to think about what that means.

“Suck-up,” Mutta says, reaching over to pinch Mikael’s arm.

“Hey,” Mikael says, slapping it away. “Stop being rude to me.”

“This sucks,” Elias says, putting down the remote.

“You suck,” Adam says, scoring one last time before ending the game. “Where’s Isak? I want him to see the score so he can tell Sana about it.”

“Why can’t you tell Sana yourself?” Mikael asks. “You see her like every day.”

“I don’t talk to her every day though, but Isak does,” Adam says. “Is he home?”

“Yeah, but he’s busy,” Even says, looking over at the door again. Still closed. “He has a friend over.” He can’t imagine what kind of secret Isak has that would take this long to talk about, it does seem a bit excessive to have the door shut for so long.

When he turns back to the guys, Elias and Yousef are exchanging a pointed look, seemingly having a world-less discussion amongst themselves.

Elias gives a small, encouraging nod and Yousef clears his throat. “Um, that’s… that’s too bad,” he says. “I’m sure he’ll be out soon though.”

Even frowns a little, confused by Yousef’s tone. It sounds almost… comforting? “I guess, yeah.”

There’s a somewhat awkward silence for a moment, before Elias gets up. “Do you have some tea or something? I figure I’m on duty since I lost.”

“I’ll show you, we have a bunch of different ones,” Even says, disentangling himself from Mikael.

He trails Elias out to the kitchen, the conversation between the guys starting back up behind him.

 

It’s been almost an hour since everyone’s finished their tea when Isak and Eskild finally appear in the living room. Isak is met with smiles and hugs, Eskild with handshakes and introductions.

“Nice to meet you,” Mutta says. “Are you Isak’s… boyfriend?”

“I’m his spiritual guidance counsellor,” Eskild says without missing a beat. “Lots of work needing to be done on this soul, I’ll tell you.”

The look of confusion on all their faces only last for a second before Isak clues them in. “Don’t listen to him. He just used to live here.”

“Oh, really?” Adam says. “Do you miss the flat?”

“A little,” Eskild shrugs. “I’m closer to uni, but further away from this one,” he says, pulling Isak closer to him.

Isak makes a face but doesn’t protest the gesture. Even scoots a little on the couch so that there’s room for Isak, should he want to sit down.

“Hey, Isak, look at the screen,” Adam says, sitting up a little straighter. “Pretty good, huh?”

Isak makes an approving noise. “Did you play against Even?”

“What? I would never lose like that,” Even says, feigning outrage.

“You always lose like that,” Isak says, waving his hand dismissively.

“Ooh, damn,” Elias says. “You need some aloe for that one, bro?”

“It’s your scores!” Even says, pointing to the TV.

“Yeah but for me, this was just a fluke. You suck regularly,” Elias says primly.

“Hey, me too,” Eskild says, holding up his hand to Even for a high-five. Isak pulls it down again before Even has a chance to meet it.

“So embarrassing,” Isak mumbles.

“He’s shy,” Eskild stage whispers. “Very delicate flower, this one.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Can I play?”

“Of course,” Even says, scooting over a little further. “It’s your game.”

“You can play me,” Adam says, picking up Elias’ deserted remote. “See if you can handle the master.”

“Pfft, I’m the master in this house,” Isak says, plopping down next to Even. “Bring it.”

Eskild declares himself completely uninterested in testosterone tournaments featuring fully clothed players, so he goes off to search for food in the kitchen. Mutta joins him, excitedly talking about the cookies he saw in the kitchen before.

Mikael sits back and starts up a game of Temple Run on his phone.

“That’s so old,” Even says, poking Mikael’s side. “You need to update your games.”

“It’s vintage,” Mikael protests, his whole upper body turning as he tilts the phone.

Even sighs but still leans away so Mikael gets more space to move around. That means he presses closer to Isak, who doesn’t move closer like he would a couple of weeks ago, but doesn’t move away either.

Even takes it as a small victory and runs with it.

 

*

 

Over the next few days, Even does his best to spend time with Isak but most of his attempts are fruitless as Isak seems busier than usual. When he complains about it to his mum, she advices him to leave it for a while.

”He’s probably got tonnes of stuff going on right now,” she says, always one for giving good advice even though she doesn’t know the exact circumstances. ”Just let him get his exams and things sorted in peace, we all handle stress differently.”

“Do you think it’s because… I mean, he was around pretty much the whole time I was manic.” Even bites his lip as he can practically hear his mum think it over on the other end of the line.

“It can be quite intense,” she says after a minute. “You could ask him about it, I suppose, but maybe don’t push it. It could have nothing to do with you at all, you know.”

“Are you saying I’m not the centre of the universe?” Even asks, smiling a little when she snorts.

“You’re always the centre of mine.” There’s a voice in the background. His mum sighs. “Second to your dad, of course. Light of my life.” Her tone is robotic and bone-dry.

They move on to safer topics and make lunch plans before hanging up. Even goes out into the empty kitchen, moving some stuff around before deciding he’s not hungry, just a bit antsy, so he walks down the corridor, not sure what he’s searching for.

He peaks a look into Isak’s empty room, taking in the tornado of dirty clothes and books on the floor, before calling Elias.

 

They meet by the football court they’ve been playing at since they became friends, more than a decade ago. Adam is still the best player, Mutta makes a decent goalie and Even is enthusiastic but slightly shit. 

“You’re gonna hit it one of these days,” Elias says as he runs past, patting Even on the back.

Even lies down on the grass, exhausted after chasing the ball for ages and not making a single goal.

“Is this a new strategy?” Mikael asks as he plops down beside him. “I like it.”

“Come on guys, you can’t just lie there,” Yousef calls from across the field.

“Yeah, we can,” Mikael shouts back. “It’s a trust exercise. If you step on us, we’ll cry.”

“Alright, I’m in,” Adam says, already strategizing. “You two make goals on Even’s side, me and Mutta score on Mikael’s.”

After getting agreements and Even throwing the ball up in the air to start the game, he turns to Mikael.

“How are you, you alright?”

“Yeah,” Mikael says. “I’m alright. You?”

“Fine,” Even says.

There’s a few seconds of pointed silence. The ball flies by over their heads, landing on Even’s left side. Elias and Yousef cheer, jumping around.

There’s something in their unbridled joy that brings out the truth in Even.

“I’m not fine,” Even says.

He didn’t even say it loudly, but it’s as if the phrase itself has activated super hearing in all of them because within seconds, the whole gang is sitting down, Adam pulling Even’s head into his lap.

“Talk,” he says as Mutta makes himself comfortable, burrowing his head onto Even’s stomach and grabbing Even’s hand, dropping it on top of his head.

“The usual, please,” he says, making a content noise when Even dutifully starts carding through his hair.

“So spoiled,” Elias says. “Even, you’re up.”

Even concentrates on taking it all in for a second, drawing from the warmth around him to battle the coldness in his chest. “I messed up with Isak,” he finally says, voice quiet. “When I was manic.”

“What happened?” Mikael asks, shuffling a little closer.

Even knows he’s distracted when he doesn’t even have to fight a blush at the touch. “Um, well. I kinda… attacked him?”

“What do you mean?” Elias asks.

“It was just- we were out walking because I couldn’t sleep and I think it’s a good thing to try exercise to, like, make the tiredness kick in and Isak’s big on research so he probably knew that.”

“Okay,” Yousef says. “So it was just the two of you?”

Even nods. “And then-“ He has to be careful here, because while he wants advice, he doesn’t want to accidentally out himself. “And then I just… something just came over me and I, like, said some stuff that was probably really hurtful and he pushed me a little and then he got really freaked out cause I fell down, you know. But it wasn’t his fault. And then we went home and he took care of me.” He looks over at Mikael. “It was the night before you came over for breakfast.”

“Oh, right,” Mikael says. “He did seem a little quiet. Was that what he wanted to talk to you about, so you wouldn’t tell me?”

“Yeah.” In a way, that’s not a lie.

The guys seem to be mulling the new information over, picking a little at the grass, Adam leaning over to push a buttercup flower into Mikael’s hair.

As always, it’s Elias who leads the reasonable part of the conversation. “Have you tried to talk to him about it?”

“He just says it’s fine.”

“But he doesn’t mean it?” Elias asks.

“No,” Even says. “He really doesn’t. He’s never going to admit it though, he just doesn’t… he doesn’t like it when people are mad at him.”

“So wait, he’s not going to admit to you hurting him because he thinks you'll get angry?” Adam asks. 

“Pretty much,” Even says.

"But you won't get angry," Adam says, sounding a little confused. 

"He doesn't know that. Or, like, he knows but he doesn't really believe it," Even says. "It's a whole thing with his family and stuff, I don't want to get into it."

"Shit," Adam says. "That sucks."

"Yeah," Even mumbles, concentrating on combing all of Mutta's hair over to one side.

Mikael nudges him gently. “I think you should try again,” Mikael says. “In a few days, maybe, when he’s had time to figure stuff out.”

“You sound like my mum,” Even says, smile tugging at his lips.

“I take that as a compliment,” Mikael says. “She’s a super nice lady.”

“Oooh, she’s a _super nice lady_ ,” Adam says, “Got a little crush there, Mikky?”

“You’d make a cute couple,” Mutta says. “You both like mothering Even, it’s perfect.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Mikael says, turning his head into Elias’ leg. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“Not as nice as Even’s mum, apparently,” Elias snickers, patting Mikael on the head when he snaps it up, looking betrayed. “Chill, man. You have some confusing feelings, and that’s fine. It’s all part of this thing called puberty, we'll teach you all about it.”

“It finally happened!” Mutta says, dramatically wiping a non-existent tear from his eye. “It took a while, but now all of us are big boys.”

“We’ve had gym together for years, I think we all know that’s not true,” Yousef says drily. “Well, at least for some of us.”

And there, somewhere between Mutta’s offended squawk and Elias’ offer to get a measuring tape, Even finds his calm for the first time in weeks. He laughs along to Adam’s rap about the importance of size and Yousef’s awful dance, feeling like he could maybe find all the happiness he needs through a love that’s not romantic.

 

*

 

He does his best to follow their advice during the next few days. It’s not like he doesn’t talk to Isak, they still chat during their joint dinners and conversations on the tram, but there’s something missing in each interaction, a carelessness that used to be there that has now turned contrite and slightly forced.

In a way, it’s kind of a shame that he knows Isak so well now, because if he didn’t, Even would never have noticed the change. He misses the Isak he knew before the episode and desperately wishes he didn’t have to.

He’s not going to push it, though.

He’s not.

 

*

 

The light under Isak’s door is on when Even passes it on his way back from the bathroom. He pauses outside it, trying to decide whether or not he should check in. After running a hand through his hair and straightening out his t-shirt, Even knocks on the door.

“Yeah?”

He opens it to find Isak on his bed, cocooned in blankets and with the hood of his sweatshirt covering almost all his hair, only a few curls escaping. Even has a sudden urge to walk over and brush them away.

Instead, he leans against the doorway, trying for casual.

“I didn’t know you were up.”

“Mm,” Isak says, eyes returning to his laptop. “Just finishing some stuff.”

Even walks in to sit on the foot of the bed. “What kind of stuff, biology? I’m sure Sana wouldn’t mind you handing it in a bit late.”

Isak shoots him a disbelieving look paired with a judgemental eyebrow rise.

“Okay,” Even says, holding his hands up in surrender. “But, like, you should probably get some sleep. It’s late.”

“You’re up,” Isak points out, sounding rather defensive.

“I’m going back to sleep in a minute though.”

“Me too,” Isak says. He looks up again to see Even still lingering. “What?”

“Nothing.” Even clears his throat. “I just… don’t want you to be tired in the morning.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

When he walks back to his room, Even can’t help but think he failed a test he never thought he’d have to study for.

 

* 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've passed the half-way mark! as always, thank you to everyone for reading, commenting and leaving kudos, it means the world.
> 
> i've finally made a tumblr post for this fic (and chapter), you can find it [right here.](http://www.icelandcurry.tumblr.com/post/162242188737/a-mental-archive-of-love-unwanted-chapter-5)


	6. lullabies and love masters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep is absent. Emotions are not.

Even gets out of class to multiple messages demanding his presence as soon as humanly possible. He manages to catch the tram just in time, reading through all the chat updates of the day while Oslo flies by outside the window.

The guys already sitting on the benches outside their usual kebab shop when he gets there, the owner now so used to them coming in that he starts making their orders as soon as he sees them through the window.

The fact that Mutta’s taken to call the guy ‘King of Kebabs and Father of Falafel’ doesn’t exactly hurt their good reputation. For six rowdy guys with somewhat appalling table manners, they’re surprisingly popular in this establishment. 

 

When Even comes back to the table after picking up and paying for his food, Adam is in the middle of a story, a few drops of garlic sauce escaping every time he gesticulates to emphasize a dramatic point in the narrative.

The lady sitting on the table next to them looks moderately amused. Even gives her a big smile and a nod, getting a sour frown in return, before Mutta pulls him down on the bench next to him. 

“So, I walked up to her, right? And I just went like, ‘I asked around and found out some stuff about you’,” Adam says.

“Stalker,” Mikael says.

Adam sticks out his tongue, which, since his mouth is filled with falafel, is rather effective as a silencing tactic.

“Ugh,” Elias mutters, flicking Adam’s chin so that he closes his mouth again. “Continue the story instead of being gross, just ignore Mik.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway,” Adam says, waving his hand a little. A tiny piece of cucumber flies through the air. “She went ‘what?’ And I was like, ‘everyone says you’re the most gorgeous girl in this whole house, like, the whole party thinks you’re lit’ and then she was like ‘really’ and I was like ‘yeah’ and then I just chatted her up and she gave me her number and told me to call her whenever.”

There’s a collective silence for a few seconds, before Even speaks up. “I call it.”

“Me too,” Mutta says. “Total bullshit.”

“Would I lie?” Adam says, “Would I lie to you, seriously?”

“About your ability to pick up girls? Yeah, you would,” Even says. 

“Ooh,” Elias chimes in. “Look who’s decided to wake up from his coma. Welcome back, occasional burn boy.”

The rest of them chime in with congratulatory shouts and dunks Even in the back. He tries to act put off but can’t hide his grin. 

“Why am I still occasional? Haven’t I upgraded yet?” he asks. 

“Have you gotten your rule book yet?” Elias asks, eyebrow raised.

Even pouts and Elias nods sagely. “That’s right. You’re almost there though, you just have to get a few more shots in before you can become a proper burning man along the rest of us.” 

“But try to go easy on us, yeah,” Yousef says. “You being down has made us all soft.”

“Usual occurrence for you?” Even asks innocently. “There’s help to get, you know.”

The high-fives he gets soothes his soul. Yousef winks at him and Even knows this is as close to normal he will ever feel.

It’s pretty fucking great.

 

“Did you really get her number?” He asks as he and Adam are walking down the road towards the gym. 

The rest of the guys had begged off their session, claiming that the food had been too much for them to handle working out afterwards.

“Almost,” Adam says. “Just a few digits short.”

Even laughs. “Close enough, I guess.”

They walk through the door, the familiar smell of sweat and industrial strength disinfectant cleaner washes over them, strangely enough a calming thing.

They nod hello to the lady behind the counter, the one with the slightly lilac hair. Even usually has a chat with her before they leave but never when they walk in. It’s a nonsensical thing, but the habit has turned into tradition and can now never be broken. 

“Spot me?” Adam asks, already busy piling on weights.

“Yup.” Even stretches a little as he gets into position, revelling in the way his body’s responding.

It’s been a while since he’s been here, and he’s missed it. He’s had a couple of episodes where mania brought him here, again and again and again over the course of a couple of days. He was never left alone though, always having at least one of the boys as a sparring partner. This time around however, his eagerness for exercise had been completely absent.

Adam lies down and starts pushing. “Did you hear about Mikael’s girl?”

“No?” There’s an instinct to recoil, to hide from whatever words are about to follow but when he really thinks about it, that’s all it is. An instinct.

“The one he met at the party, and then again at yours,” Adam says. “Laura, she went to Nissen, I think.”

“Huh. No, I didn’t hear that. Did they meet up?” He’s concentrating on following Adam’s movements, determined not to be a bad spotter whatever distractions the conversation might bring.

“Don’t think so, they’ve been chatting quite a lot though.” 

“Okay. I’m guessing I’m gonna hear all about it sooner or later,” Even says, careful to keep his voice level. 

Adam huffs out a laugh. “I’d count on it, he’s gonna go over every little detail with everyone who’s willing to listen.”

Even hums and does his best to seem nothing but casually interested. He wonders if it’s ever going to feel natural again, hearing about Mikael’s romantic interests, the way it was before feelings got in the way and mucked everything up. 

They switch places soon enough and Even can switch his focus to the way the exercise pulls his muscles taught, how it dims some of his more racing thoughts. He does his best to shut them all out and forces himself to pay attention to Adam as he talks about his latest idea for a video and the interviews he’s got lined up at various radio stations around town.

Even breathes in. Breathes out.

 

*

 

His hair is still wet from his shower at the gym when he gets home, unlocking the door to an empty apartment. The smell of coffee lingers in the air, a post-it note saying Linn won’t be home until tomorrow taped to the fridge.

Even goes to the kettle mostly out of habit, filling it up to get a cup of tea to go along with his essay writing. There’s a monotony to his movements, no real feeling connected to what’s usually quite a soothing ritual.

He stands staring out the window while the kettle boils, walking over to steep the chamomile that he now associates with Sunday mornings and The Simpsons.

He tries to take in his own reaction to Adam’s news. He tries to find the reason behind it. He tries to find the pain.

All he finds is vague disappointment at the thought of Mikael not telling Even himself, of Even not being the natural first person to know all of Mikael’s news. He knows it’s because he’s been down and Mikael is always careful not to overwhelm Even coming out of an episode, but it still stings a little.

Other than that there’s nothing, and Even doesn’t get it.

 

A blind stubbornness gets him through the afternoon, concentrating on nothing but the words on the page, determined to prove his worth. He knows he’s probably not going to get a great grade since there’s some bad blood and emails between him and the professor, but that’s no excuse not to do his best. 

It’s late when he hears Isak get in, his shuffling steps travelling around the kitchen before disappearing into his room, the door shutting quietly behind him. Even turns off his laptop and gets ready for bed while listening in on Isak doing the same in his room, putting on music before the final lamp goes out.

It’s not the first time he’s fallen asleep to the sound of deLillos but it’s the first time he doesn’t do it alone. Even with a wall in between them, Isak’s mere presence is calming.

 

*

 

It’s Elias’ turn to edit their latest vlog, and since there’s nothing else to do, Even mostly just pokes around at Elias’ stuff while he works, restlessly pacing the room.

After Even’s third turn and as many sighs, Elias snaps the laptop shut. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Elias narrows his eyes at him, but they soften when Even unwillingly shrinks back a little.

“Okay,” Elias says, not pushing it. Even is eternally grateful, feeling like one small word of encouragement would make him blurt out everything that’s happened since he first started liking Mikael right up until these last few days of confusion.

In this familiar environment where he’s never felt unsafe, he would tell everything, even against his own will. A small part of him welcomes the thought of getting the words out just so he can get rid of the weight of them. A bigger part of him rejects the idea, a stifling fear too strong to convince him to open up fully.

It’s only a few minutes later when Elias gets up, stretches a little. “I can’t concentrate when you’re hovering. There’s rhubarb pie in the kitchen, let’s go.”

“The one with the crumbs on top?” Even says hopefully.

“What else?” Elias swings his arm around Even’s back, pushing him gently towards the door. “Never knew anyone so obsessed with rhubarbs before, man, you have a weird palette.”

“Look at you with your big fancy words,” Even says.

He’s still feeling a little unbalanced after realizing his feelings for Mikael has changed. They’ve been defining a big part of him for a long time, and he feels a little out of sync with himself. Every time he thinks about it, his head starts to hurt so, for now, he focuses on nothing but Elias’ arm around him, on timing his own steps with Elias’ so that they’re following the same rhythm. It’s strangely soothing.

“I’m very smart, I’ll have you know,” Elias says just as they reach the kitchen.

From her place at the table, Sana snorts.

“Hey, I’ve got brains,” Elias says.

“Mhm,” Sana says. “You really show it with your… what is it you do again?”

“I’m creating magic,” Elias says, spreading his arms wide. “Enchanting the online masses.”

“It’s true,” Even says, smiling at Sana. “We’re very… magical.” He adds a bit of jazz hands to really emphasize the point.

Sana rolls her eyes. “Don’t eat all the pie.”

“Of course not,” Elias says as he cuts off a quarter of it and puts it on a plate.

Even has enough respect for Sana that he settles down with a more modestly sized slice, making Elias huff beside him.

“Waste of a plate, if you ask me,” he says while shuffling in pie in his mouth. He gets up to grab the vanilla sauce from the fridge, handing it to Even after drenching his own portion.

Even gives him a smile in thanks before switching his gaze to trying to read Sana’s textbook upside down. “It’s… chemistry?”

“Yup.”

“Is that one of your main classes?”

“Mhm. That and maths and biology.” She’s drumming her pen against the book, looking over at the pie.

“You know you want to,” Elias says.

“Ugh, fine,” Sana says, getting up to grab a slice of her own.

“Do you have all those with Isak? Or just biology?” Even asks.

“Just biology,” Sana answers from behind him. “We have some other ones though, Norwegian and PE and stuff.” 

An unwanted image of Isak in short shorts and a tank top makes its way into Even’s thoughts. Even’s brain clearly needs a time-out.

“Oh, right,” he says, his voice coming out a little weird. He clears his throat. “Cool.”

Sana’s back to sitting opposite him, spoon hovering over her plate. She looks at him with a frightfully piercing gaze for a few seconds before smiling innocently. “He’s really good at handball, actually. Very talented.”

Even chokes on his pie.

Elias assisting by dunking him in the back and Sana hands over her glass of water, which Even finishes in three seconds flat. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Sana says.

“I know it’s good and all, but chill man,” Elias says, waving his spoon around. “No need to rush.” 

Even laughs a little, but it feels forced. Elias, of course, notices, but doesn’t say anything. The voice in Even’s head telling him to let Elias in on all his secrets starts up again, but it’s not yet strong enough to overtake him.

“Hey, how was the tea?” Sana says, making Even snap back into reality.

“Tea?”

“Yeah, Isak called to ask me how long to steep chamomile for.” Sana rolls her eyes. “Apparently, he didn’t trust the instructions on the box.”

“Oh,” Even says. “Why did he- um, when was that?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

A couple of weeks ago saw Even in bed, unable and unwilling to eat or drink anything put in front of him. A couple of weeks ago was when he kept waking up to endless cups of tea, smelling vaguely familiar and comforting enough to quiet his thoughts for a few minutes.

“It was nice,” Even says quietly.

Sana looks as if she wants to say something more, but then she glances at Elias and turns her attention back to the pie. Even looks down at his plate, dragging the spoon across the crust, creating patterns of swirls in the sauce.

 

*

 

It is the second Sunday of the month and, emotional turmoil be damned, it’s cleaning day. Urban legend has it that it used to be Eskild who either made it into a party, inviting a bunch of friends to rave their way through various house chores, or nagged Isak and Linn about what needed to be done before they gave in out of despair more than anything.

In both those cases, it didn’t seem Eskild did much of the actual work himself. Even’s a little impressed and not at all surprised.

Since moving in, Even’s been careful not to become the new cleaning overlord. In the beginning, it was because he was the new kid and he didn’t want the others to resent him, later it was about keeping his status as the laid-back roommate with great hair and no worries.

He might have dropped the ball on that last one.

Surprisingly, it was Linn who in the end got so tired of finding dust bunnies everywhere and eating in a living room that hadn’t been properly vacuumed in weeks that she took charge of the cleaning schedule.

They ended up having a proper flat-meeting about it, Even in charge of keeping notes which ended up being mostly cartoons of the proceedings but, as Isak pointed out, they were still accurate in the information they portrayed. One of the pictures is now stuck on the fridge; another made its way to Isak’s wall.

It’s worked out quite well; they’re good at reminding each other not to make plans on the particular day and to refill whatever cleaning supply is needed during the week. Usually, Isak and Even team up to take on the kitchen while Linn starts in the living room, the bathroom left for last so that no one has to scrub it alone. It most often ends with them having to clean the kitchen floors twice due to the amount of water that’s been tossed around during cleaning, the result of at least one water fight erupting sometime during the day.

This Sunday is a little different.

Even’s scrubbing the counter top as usual, working in circles to get all the dirt out from the corners and into the sink. There’s a rhythm to it, almost therapeutic in the way the movements reappear, the logic behind them solid and obvious. Doing it by himself feels a little strange, muscle memory tricking him into leaving an Isak-shaped space next to him, ready to be inhabited.

It’s not.

Isak is on the other side of the room, dusting the windowsill and all its knick-knacks. Most of them have been added since Even moved in, but not all of them belong to him. There are a few things that has mysteriously disappeared from Isak’s room only to find its way to the kitchen, same goes for Linn. It’s an eclectic collection but it’s Even’s favourite decoration in the entire flat.

He wonders if Isak thinks so too. He wonders if he even cares, or if this is another thing Even has put meaning into when for other people, there is none.

They’ve been tentative towards each other the past few days, only exchanging achingly empty small talk and attempts at joking around which has fallen as flat as the surface Even’s scrubbing.

What’s even worse is that sometimes, it’s like Isak forgets himself and engages with Even like he used to, especially in the mornings before he’s properly woken up, or if he falls asleep on the couch before stumbling into the kitchen in time for dinner. There are small moments of peace before Isak catches up to the situation and becomes just a tad more careful, a shade more hesitant in a way he never was before.

Right now, as he works, Isak quietly hums along to Linn’s playlist, occasionally singing the words and getting at least half of them wrong. This should be nothing but endearing and familiar, a normal part of the usual routine, but it’s all different now because Even doesn’t feel like he can mock Isak for his mistakes without it being a call to arms.

Even hates it but he can’t seem to make it stop.

He finishes scrubbing, wringing out the dishrag under ice cold water. He keeps his hands there a beat too long, a red tint appearing when his hands come out in the air again, starting to warm up. It matches the colour on Isak’s cheeks.

“Do you need help?” Even says, tucking his hands behind his back like a schoolboy. 

“I think I can handle it,” Isak says. “It’s not that hard.”

“Yeah, no, of course,” Even says. He clears his throat. “Sorry.”

“No, no. I’m sorry.” Isak turns to him, holding a vaguely heart-shaped rock in one hand and a feather duster in the other. It’s one of the stones Even brought home from vacation. It looks small in Isak’s hand. “I just meant, like, I got it.” 

“Right,” Even says. He stands up a little straighter, “Well, I’ll just go out into the living room then, see if Linn needs a hand.”

“Sure,” Isak says. “Okay.”

“Great,” Even says, turning to walk out.

Every step feels like a failure.

 

*

 

The following Monday is uneventful, Even has a morning class and spends a few hours on a group project after that. It’s astounding how little people can care about an assignment that is vital for their final grade, but two of his three companions manage to get the bar lower than Even thought possible. The reason for them being in uni at all is somewhat unclear, but he expects them to turn into the type of people who’ll talk their way into getting projects financed despite having done nothing but failures in the past.

It’s a particular kind of arrogance that will get that particular career trajectory moving, one Even is quite pleased in lacking.

 

He meets up with Yousef to grab lunch, sitting in a crowded café a couple streets over from Yousef’s job. He’s usually working early mornings but is currently on the late shift, which Even knows he doesn’t like. Even thinks it’s because Yousef’s too much of a softie to bear seeing the kids being picked up by their parents, wanting to keep them around every hour of the day.

There’s been a few times when Even’s been tempted to go down the same route as Yousef, spending all day surrounded by kids, but then he remembers how utterly useless he is with crying children and how that would probably reflect poorly on his work performance. Better stick with film because, even though there might still be tears, they're all self-inflicted and closely monitored.

“It’s not that bad though,” Yousef concludes after spending fifteen minutes complaining about how his landlord just upped the rent without giving proper notice.

“Can’t you contact the… I don’t know, rental people?” Even says. “There are organizations against that stuff, right?”

“Well, yeah, but we’re not on the lease so technically, we can’t say anything to the actual landlord without exposing ourselves,” Yousef says, poking his salad dejectedly.

“That sucks. So, what, if you don’t agree to it he can just kick you out?”

“Mhm,” Yousef says. “You don’t have that?”

“No,” Even says. “I think Eskild was on the lease at first, but it’s Linn now since she’s the one with the job and everything.”

“So lucky,” Yousef says. “I’m gonna have to talk to my boss about getting even more hours now, that’s going to be awkward as hell.”

“I can write you a letter of recommendation, if that helps,” Even says, smiling when Yousef huffs out a laugh. 

“Maybe if you write it as a child,” Yousef says. “Pretend to be one of my sisters or something.”

“That’s better, just get one of them to write it!” Even says. “It would be like in one of those heart-warming family movies. A brother in trouble and then bam! Family to the rescue, everyone’s happy again and it ends with baseball and barbeque.”

“How is that the first thing you think of?” Yousef asks. He narrows his eyes. “Those are the only films you really like to watch, isn’t it? Everything else is just for show.”

Even nods sagely. “It’s true. Fuck Bergman, just give me baseball caps and family relationships built on clichés and extremely bad dialogue.”

“Son, you’re throwing away your dream!” Yousef says dramatically, grabbing onto Even’s arm.

Even pushes it off, flicking his hair for good measure. “No dad, I’m throwing away yours.”

“Nice,” Yousef says, taking a bite of his salad.

“Right?” Even says. “Should change careers, become an actor. I think I’d be a natural.”

Yousef smirks at him. “Yeah? We all know why.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Alright,” Yousef shrugs. He keeps his smile though, looking up at Even through his fringe as he continues to eat.

“Don’t,” Even says.

“I’m not saying a word,” Yousef says, saying several words with his eyebrows alone.

“I’m not a drama queen!” Even says. He unfortunately forgets to lower his voice, drawing the attention of most of the diners.

With a sheepish smile, he apologizes to the room in general before turning back to Yousef, whose shoulders are now shaking.

Even flicks a cherry tomato at his hair, missing by a mile. “Shut up.”

Yousef blows a kiss at him, which Even throws over his shoulder.

“Rude,” Yousef says.

“I’m temperamental, what can I say.” Even pushes a few pieces of radish over to Yousef’s plate, getting a few cucumber slices in return.

It doesn’t take long before they’re back to bickering about how good of an idea it would actually be to get Yousef’s sisters involved in the whole rental situation, but it’s soft and familiar enough to make Even’s entire day feel better.

 

 _I need advice from the love master!!!_

Even frowns. _That’s a vaguely disgusting nickname_

_No, it’s not! It’s got ‘master’ in it_

Even sighs. _My point exactly._

A few seconds later, the phone rings. He picks up.

“You’ve reached the institute for horrible monikers, please leave a message after the tone.”

“What’s wrong with master?” Mikael asks. “It makes you sound cool.”

“Hanging up now,” Even says.

He’s on his way to the library after having dropped Yousef off at work, spending a little too much time letting a little girl pet his hair, which means that he now has to jog down the street to make it before closing time.

“Noooo,” Mikael says. “I seriously need help.”

“Agreed,” Even says, almost panting now. He makes a mental note to include more cardio in his excercise routine.

“Funny. Do you have time? You sound weird,” Mikael says.

“I’m running to catch a book,” Even says.

The way Mikael simply makes an understanding noise at that is a true testament to the nature of their friendship.

“I have time though,” Even adds. “What’s up?”

He knows what’s coming but he doesn’t know how he’ll react to it. He’s grateful for the distraction of having to dodge people on the sidewalk as he waits for Mikael’s explanation of just how untouchable he is.

“You remember the girl from the party?” Mikael says. There it is. “We’ve been texting a lot, talked on the phone and stuff, but now she says she doesn’t want to move too quickly and I’m cool with that but like, we literally haven’t seen each other in ages?”

“Okay,” Even says.

“So, is she ditching me?”

Mikael sounds genuinely upset, which tugs at Even’s heartstrings. The worst thing imaginable for Even is Mikael in pain because of unrequited love, which is weird considering how the worst thing used to be Mikael being in love with anyone other than Even.

He hesitates a little before speaking, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know. What did you say when she said she wanted to slow down?”

“I said that it was fine and that I didn’t want to rush either. But since then, she’s only been replying with emojis and stuff.”

“Ah. That’s… not ideal,” Even says. He’s finally arrived at the library, pulling the door open as he lowers his voice. “I’m gonna whisper from now on.”

“So you won't wake the books?” Mikael asks.

“Exactly. So, I know it's awkward but can’t you try and ask her? Just straight out say that you want to keep talking but if she doesn’t want to, it’s better if she just says so instead of fading it out.” Even makes his way to the desk, giving the lady behind it a beaming smile.

She nods at him. “Hello.”

“I have a book to pick up, under Even Bech Næsheim,” Even says, careful to keep his voice on a library-appropriate volume.

She nods again and turns away, searching the shelf behind her.

“How do I do that without sounding like an entitled ass, though? It’s impossible to do that over text.” Mikael sighs. “I’m getting emoji dumped, aren’t I?”

Even chews on his bottom lip, trying to come up with a solution. “I think there’s a risk of that, but you have to at least try and talk to her before giving up, you know?”

“Is that what you would have done?” Mikael asks.

There’s a tiny stab of hurt at the irony of it all, but Even ignores it to do something he tries to avoid at all costs. He lies. “Yes. That’s what I would have done.”

He gets his book and spends the evening buried in film history. The imaginary people on the page don’t help as much as they used to.

 

*

 

It’s a few days later when Even decides to bring out the big guns of distraction. He can’t stand anymore free time spent feeling maudlin over something that never really happened, so he digs out the recipe book his mum bought him ages ago and looks up the most complicated dish he can find.

When he’s located it, he spends about ten minutes trying to understand it. Then he flips the pages until he lands on a slow simmering stew with a lot of ingredients and very few, fairly straightforward instructions. One day Even is going to level up in his cookery, but it is not this day.

 

He’s been going for almost two hours when footsteps approaches. 

“Hi.”

Isak is standing in the kitchen doorway, nervously fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. Even didn’t know he was home. The realization makes him a little sad, the distance between them almost a physical ache.

“Hi,” Even replies, a beat too late. He reduces the heat on the stew so that he won’t risk it burning when Isak takes over his full attention.

“I… I’m going over to Jonas’.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Isak bites his lip, turning around as if to walk out but abruptly changing his mind, swerving back to face Even. “I’m really sorry I said that stuff about Mikael. I just- I panicked and you were going to tell him and I promised I’d help you not to.”

It takes him aback a little because out of all the things that happened during his episode, this is what has been giving Even the least grief. He should have known it would be the complete opposite for Isak.

He turns off the stove, giving it one final stir just to occupy his hands, to steal a little more time to figure out something to say, anything that would be more than a band aid on a shot wound.

Isak is standing in the exact same position when Even turns back around, a worrying sign for someone who usually fidgets through his nerves.

Even takes a second just to look. There are enough tells for his heart to speed up, for the ugly voice in his head to speak up with its usual message of disappointment and disgust in himself.

The lines under Isak’s eyes, the way his hands are slightly shaking, how he’s hidden himself away in layers and layers of grey clothing. It’s so obvious and yet Even can’t help but ask, a selfish part of him hoping he’s wrong even though he knows he’s not.

“Is this why you haven’t been sleeping?” He’s careful to keep his voice level, completely free from judgement.

Isak looks down, shrugs a little.

If it was anyone else, Even would have walked over and hugged him but he’s made a promise to himself that he won’t touch Isak again without expressed permission so instead of engaging, he simply waits until Isak looks back up, catching his eye.

“You should have told me,” Even says.

Isak bites his lip, looking away. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t- It was my fault. I shouldn’t have put that on you, that’s not fair.” Even aches to reach out and touch him, but he’s afraid Isak’s going to misinterpret it as pity. He keeps his hands to himself.

“I didn’t mind that,” Isak mumbles. “I messed it up though.”

“You didn’t,” Even says softly. “You took care of me.”

Even turns back to the stove for a moment, concentrates on stirring and trying not to notice how Isak takes the opportunity to run his sleeves over his eyes, rubbing at them slightly.

Even clears his throat. “Do you want to eat before you go? It’s almost ready.”

“No, Jonas’ mum is cooking,” Isak says. “Don’t want to be rude.”

“Alright, suck-up.” The response is automatic, and Even freezes when he hears himself say it.

The sight of Isak rolling his eyes has never brought such relief, Even’s smile helpless in response to it.

“As if you have any ground to stand on,” Isak says. “I’ve been at Sana’s when you’ve talked to her mum, you know.”

“Why is everyone on me about that? Me and Mama Bakkoush have a special bond, and I will not have you taint it,” Even says as he walks over to grab a teaspoon. He dips it in and tastes it, frowning a little at the taste. “More salt,” he decides.

“You always say that,” Isak says, coming up next to him, “I’m not sure you need it as often as you think.”

“Oh, yeah? Taste this, then,” Even says, re-dipping and putting the spoon to Isak’s mouth.

Isak tastes it, mulling it over for a moment. “Fine, it needs more salt.”

“Yes!” Even does a little dance in celebration, holding his hand out. “Assistance, please.”

Isak grumbles a little but hands the shaker over. He looks on quietly as Even seasons away, leaning in to inspect the stew. “Looks good.”

Even looks over at him, cataloguing the way Isak’s still carrying tension in his shoulders, his back still unnaturally stiff. “I never felt like you needed to apologize about the Mikael stuff. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“That’s okay,” Isak says, relaxing a little, leaning in enough that their sides are touching.

His hair smells like Even’s conditioner, his nails are uneven and bitten down and there’s a hole in one of his socks where his big toe peeks out. He’s nothing but home.

And just like that, it all falls into place.

 

*

 

Even is back to lying on the floor of his room, with the same generic playlist and the same heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

He wants to talk to Isak about it. He wants to stop having feelings for people who he can’t afford to lose. He wants to kiss Isak until his lips hurt.

He keeps counting in time to the rhythm of the music, song after song after song. This time around, numbness never comes.

 

Seconds, minutes, hours later, he gets up again, mechanically walking back out into the kitchen, pulling out plastic bags to make flat parcels of stew to put in the freezer for later days. 

It’s a mechanical task, his hands getting messy from the spillage, the smell of it almost overbearing. Halfway through, he has a ridiculous notion of throwing the whole thing away. He breathes slowly, counting the seconds between inhale and exhale so that he’ll hold a steady rhythm.

When he’s done, he sits down at the table, staring out the window.

He doesn’t know what to do.

There’s a part of him that’s purely ecstatic, that wants to throw itself head on into this newfound infatuation. Another part is drenched in fear, surrounded by it, by the possibility that his feelings for Isak are nothing more than a reaction on his rejected ones for Mikael, nothing but a smoke screen to soothe a torn-up heart.

Isak’s been his one source of calm throughout this whole mess. It wouldn’t be a leap to think that he’s only projecting onto Isak and his loveliness. Even studies film, he knows how to make a camera lie to an audience and he honestly can’t tell if this is his own doing, if his brain is turning a documentary into fiction in order to include a romantic subplot completely absent from the source material.

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that Isak hates causing people pain. This means that if Even were to cast him in this role, Isak would probably play the part.

No matter if he connected to the script or not.

 

After several hours in bed, Even falls into a fitful sleep somewhere nearing midnight, his thoughts torn between treacherous hope and burning self-hatred.

 

*

 

It’s been five days and Even’s tried avoiding Isak, spending excessive amounts of time with Isak, not thinking about Isak, thinking of nothing but Isak, Isak, Isak. 

Through all of this, nothing has become clear except for the fact that now that Even’s allowing himself to look, he can’t seem to stop. His cheeks have taken on a permanent shade of pink as he’s been caught staring over and over again, eyes lingering on Isak’s hands and eyes and mouth.

It’s not enough.

 

*

 

”Are you going out tonight?” Even asks, biting his lip to prevent himself from blurting out any and all of the thoughts he’s had the past few days.

“Yeah,” Isak says. “You want to come?”

The idea of liquid courage is very tempting.

“Um, sure,” Even says. “We can do pre-drinks together maybe?”

Isak looks up. “Just you and me?” He sounds surprised but not avert to the idea.

“Yeah,” Even says. “Is that okay?”

“I’m down,” Isak says before putting on his most innocent smile, “sooo, can you get me some beer?”

 

They spend three hours going through Even’s Spotify lists, Isak critiquing most of his song choices that don’t feature rap in any form. It’s comfortable in a way it hasn’t been in weeks but even so, Even can’t fully relax, his body constantly aware of how close he is to Isak, how he can feel Isak’s breath on his neck whenever he leans in to change the song, how Isak’s eyes keep getting warmer and prettier with every drink. 

Isak’s six-pack is gone before they leave the flat, even if Even’s done his best to avoid drinking too much. He wants to keep a level head tonight, if only to be able to figure out if his feelings for Isak are genuine or just born out of convenience. He’s grown more and more scared of the answer as the days have gone past.

 

 

The party is in full swing when they get there, people crammed in the kitchen and on the tiny balcony, while a surprisingly large number of their friends are out on the makeshift dance floor. Magnus pulls Even in for a hug as soon as he comes within reach, Mahdi gives him a fist bump and Jonas is too busy making out in the corner to acknowledge them, but Isak waves at him anyway. 

“Tradition,” Isak shouts into Even’s ear when he looks at him with raised eyebrows. “Gotta at least wave.”

Even smiles. “Alright,” he says, but it’s lost in the music. He scans the room for other familiar faces and spots Sana leaning against a wall, looking supremely unimpressed with the drunk guy talking to her.

Even points her out to Isak, who nods at him with a smile before turning back to his conversation with Mahdi.

Even manages to get rid of the drunk guy within a minute by dropping some hints about Sambuca being available in the kitchen, and Sana clinks her water bottle against his when he’s gone.

“How are you?” Even asks.

“Good,” Sana says. She’s wearing softer colours today, the black of her hijab going nicely with her golden jacket and studded white shoes.

“I like your outfit,” he says. “You look good.”

“Can’t say the same,” Sana says, looking down at his worn-out jeans and bland hoodie. “I thought you’d want to dress up.”

“Why?”

Sana looks at him with a smirk and he knows that she knows. Even turns his back to the wall, slumping against it. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t, not really,” she says, an admittance he didn’t expect. She looks a little hesitant when she looks out over the crowd. “I just- I hoped?”

Even smiles at her, unable to resist reaching up to lightly poke her dimple, making it deepen even as she waves his hand away.

“You’re nice. I’m glad that we’re friends,” he says.

Sana doesn’t acknowledge it, but she does smile for the rest of the conversation and that’s more than enough.

 

A couple of hours later, Even’s found himself consoling a crying girl who, apparently, threw up all over her crush. “She didn’t even say anything, she just ran away,” she sobs. “I didn’t mean to! I said I’m sorry, like, a million times.”

“I know,” Even says although he has no knowledge of the proceedings whatsoever.

“A _million_ times, like, what does she want, a billion?” She straightens up for a moment, her eyes glazed over but determined. “I should apologize a billion times. I’m gonna go find her,” she says and is up and running before Even can stop her.

“Such a good hand with the ladies,” Jonas says, coming up behind him.

“Shut up,” Even laughs. “Like you are doing any better.”

Jonas clears his throat and points to the multitude of hickies displayed there.

“Fair enough.”

“Do you want to share?” Jonas says, holding up a blunt. “I was gonna go outside.”

“Sure,” Even says. “My work here is done anyway.”

Jonas snorts and leads the way. It’s starting to get cold, so they both grab a random jacket from the pile by the door before heading out.

“You got any movie recommendations?” Jonas asks after they’ve found a quiet spot. He notices Even’s surprised look and adds, “Isak said you’re into film.”

“Yeah, I’m a bit obsessed,” Even says.

“Cool,” Jonas says.

Even’s too lost in the happy feeling spreading through him at the thought of Isak talking about him to his friends, so he doesn’t notice Jonas’ raised eyebrows until a couple of seconds too late.

“Right,” he says, trying to laugh it off. “Um, I don’t know, what kind of films do you usually watch?”

Before Jonas can answer, Isak comes out the door, making a beeline towards them.

“Jonas,” he hisses as soon as he’s within speaking distance. “Fredrik’s here.”

“Fredrik as in _Fredrik_?” Jonas asks, immediately looking alert.

“Yes! Shit, I didn’t even know he was in Oslo,” Isak says, sitting down next to Jonas.

Even can’t help but eye the empty space next to him, wondering a little mournfully why Isak is not currently occupying it. “Who’s Fredrik?” He asks.

“Ex,” Isak says curtly. “Moved away for uni, haven’t seen him since.”

“Do you want to talk to him?” Jonas asks.

Isak rests his head in his hands. “Ugh, I don’t know,” he says, his voice muffled. “Yes? But I don’t think I should.”

“Why not?” Even asks.

“Because I’m kinda drunk and kinda high and kinda horny,” Isak says, sounding rather pitiful.

“Oh,” Even says, feeling a blush cover his face. He quickly looks away from Isak, and his hands, instead focusing on the group of people standing right outside the door, loudly singing Wonderwall in at least three different keys.

His skin still tingles, his blood running a little faster than before.

Isak groans, and it’s really not helping Even’s current situation. “Why did he show up here? Who the fuck goes to high school parties after they’ve graduated?”

“Even does,” Jonas says, bumping their shoulders together.

Even gives him a weak smile in return. “Yeah, don’t hate on us old people.”

“Sorry,” Isak says, looking up to check if Even’s really upset. The sight of his face seems to be enough to quench Isak’s worries. “I just- I haven’t seen him in months.”

“Heads up. He just came out the door,” Jonas says, elbowing Isak into sitting upright. He takes one look at Isak before taking charge of the situation. “Yo! Fredrik!”

A tall, dark-haired guy wearing chinos and a crisp-looking shirt looks over and smiles at Jonas. He falters a little when he sees Isak, but comes over nonetheless.

“Hey,” he says to Jonas, slapping his outstretched hand. “Hi,” he says in a softer voice, looking at Isak.

Isak nods at him, looking unsure as how to proceed.

Even knows it’s petty, but he really wants to make himself a part of this equation, if only for a few seconds. He leans forward. “Hi, I’m Even,” he says, giving a little wave.

“Oh, sorry. Hi, nice to meet you,” Fredrik says, moving over to shake his hand with a friendly smile.

Even doesn’t like him.

“Even’s my new flatmate,” Isak says, making Fredrik focus all his attention on him again.

Even doesn’t like it.

“Really? Did Linn move?” Fredrik asks.

“No, Eskild did,” Isak says.

“Wow, didn’t see that coming. Are you okay?” Fredrik asks, which seems to tear down the last of Isak’s defences, earning him a smile.

Even doesn’t like anything at all right now.

“Yeah, I still see him loads. It’s fine.” Isak gestures to the empty space next to him. “Do you want to…”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Fredrik says, sitting down next to Isak, not close enough to touch but still too close for Even’s comfort.

It only gets worse when Jonas taps his leg and gives him a look. “We were just heading inside, gonna look for some more beer,” he says. “You guys want anything?”

“Do you?” Fredrik asks and, after Isak’s shaken his head, adds, “We’re good, thanks.”

“Cool,” Jonas says and since Even can’t think of a reason to stay, he gets up with Jonas and leaves Isak behind.

He looks over his shoulder when he’s almost at the door. Isak is smiling, listening closely to whatever Fredrik’s saying. Even swallows down the lump in his throat and tries not to let him imagination run wild.

He doesn’t succeed.

 

Isak doesn't sleep at home that night and Even doesn't sleep at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you to [tess](http://modertheresa.tumblr.com) for discussing plot points, vanilla sauce and the definition of gym-smells. to everyone who sends comments, kudos and messages on tumblr, thank you a million (billion) times.
> 
> you can find [my tumblr here](http://icelandcurry.tumblr.com/) and the [post for this chapter here](http://icelandcurry.tumblr.com/post/162513936362/a-mental-archive-of-love-unwanted-chapter-6)


	7. a day in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 24 little hours.

It’s Saturday morning, early enough for Even to be the only one awake in the flat. The sun is trying to fight its way through the clouds, but so far the attempts have not been successful. 

He reaches over to grab his phone and headphones, lying back down to put on his classical music playlist. It’s mostly Chopin since he created it to have something calm and pretty to disappear into, an imaginary sound of soft rain against the window when he’s feeling fragile.

Isak would probably like it, fall asleep to the sound of it maybe, the music ridding him of some of the weight put on his shoulders, but Isak isn’t in the room, isn’t in the bed, isn’t into Even.

It’s been about twenty-four hours since Isak came home wearing his usual skinny jeans and trainers but with a baby blue shirt on that Even had never seen before. He didn’t look Even in the eye when he passed by the couch, walked past him quickly on the way to his room. 

Even’s tea grew cold as he waited for Isak to come back out. When Isak finally emerged again, he had changed into a hoodie that didn’t fully hide the mark on his neck. Even had to leave then, waiting just long enough to make sure Isak was okay, outside of the hangover, before pulling on his coat and disappearing out, not even taking his phone or wallet with him.

His feelings towards Isak might not be genuine but the pain sure as hell was.

Even’s spent the last day trying not to think about it too much, not to get lost in the myriad of thoughts regarding whether or not he’s so desperate to move on from Mikael that he transferred everything to the nearest person or if he’s seriously stupid enough to fall for yet another unavailable best friend.

He’s also tried not to think about Isak and Fredrik sleeping in the same bed, Isak and Fredrik sleeping together, Isak and Fredrik not sleeping at all.

Maybe it was just a one-time thing. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it won't ever happen again.

 

 

“I’m thinking of meeting up with Fredrik,” Isak says as he shuffles into the kitchen thirty minutes later, sleep still clinging to his movements. 

Even’s hand falters where he’s in the middle of cutting up a banana and he has to swallow before he’s able to answer. “Yeah?”

He’s only been awake for an hour, but the day is already reverting from it’s initial positive streak.

“Yeah. I don’t like the idea of him…” Isak waves his hand around, taking a seat at the table and staring at the coffee maker. “Not liking me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Even keeps himself busy, transferring his fruit to the bowl of granola, getting a spoon out, carrying it over to the table. He does his best to only focus on the task at hand, not the conversation.

The coffee is ready just as he’s done, so he waves Isak back down when he starts to get up and grabs two cups, making sure to top Isak’s with a spoonful of sugar.

Isak stays quiet until Even sits down opposite him, handing him a cup.

“Thank you,” Isak says, clutching on to it with both hands, nervously following the rim of it with a shaky fingertip. “I was the one who broke up with him, before he left. I don’t think he wanted to split up, but he’s nice so… and he was the one moving away.”

Despite his entire body rejecting the idea, Even feels a stab of sympathy for Fredrik. Being left by Isak is something Even wouldn’t wish on anyone, no matter how much he’d like the person in question to disappear from the face of the earth, never to be thought of or remembered again. 

“He seemed fine on Thursday,” Even says. “At the party.”

“I guess,” Isak says, shrugging a little.

“Were you- did you talk to him about it then?” Even asks, wanting to know but not wanting to hear about it. If he could hardwire the information into his brain without needing to hear Isak actually say the words, he’d do it. “Or was that just about other stuff?”

“Just catching up,” Isak says. “I didn’t want to do it when I was drunk.”

“Smart.”

“Yeah.” Isak takes a sip, grimacing a little when he scalds his tongue, which is a daily occurrence. “Ugh, I don’t know if I should just call him. He’s going back to uni soon, I don’t want this hanging over me now that- I mean, since there’s a chance I can change his mind.”

Even hums. There’s an ache in his chest wanting to escape, so he curls an arm around his ribcage to try and contain it. His thoughts from earlier seem childish, a ridiculous shot in the dark. Of course Fredrik will choose Isak again if he's ever given the chance. There is no scenario possible in which he wouldn't.

Isak keeps drinking his coffee and Even keeps finding himself in situations like this.

“What are you doing today?” Even asks after a minute of silence, longing for them to have a conversation, any conversation, that doesn’t hold the power to break his heart.

“Studying. I have this project that needs to be done and I’ve been paired with an absolute idiot, so now I have to do most of it myself if I’m gonna get a six,” Isak says, leaning his head in his hand.

“I know the feeling,” Even says, giving him a salute with his cup.

“Oh yeah, you have that group thing,” Isak says. “Cinematography, right?”

Even’s only mentioned that in passing once during one of their more awkward conversations back before Isak ridded himself of his guilt and Even ridded himself of his sanity.

“Right,” he says, slightly dumbfounded that Isak even remembers it. “It’s a nightmare.”

“How come we’re always the smartest people in every group we're in?” Isak asks with a smile.

Even sighs deeply. “I don’t know, but it’s a burden we have to bear.”

“More like a burden I want to throw in Mattias’ face.”

“Is that your nemesis? Will Ferrell has a son called that, is it him?” Even asks, dropping his mouth open in faux-shock.

“Yes, it’s him,” Isak deadpans. “Mattias Ferrell, the bane of my Norwegian existence.”

“Could be,” Even shrugs. “So when are you meeting him?”

“Oh no, I’m not doing it with him,” Isak says before draining his cup.

“But you said it was a partner thing?” Even asks, handing over his empty bowl and cup when Isak gestures for them.

He can’t help but follow Isak with his eyes while Isak moves around the kitchen, looking unfairly soft and comfortable in his plaid pyjamas and t-shirt, both of them items he’s confessed to nicking from Eskild. There’s a curl right at the nape of his neck, another one standing straight up at the crown of his head.

Even can almost hear the choir of adorable woodland creatures sing as he sits in their shared kitchen watching what is quite possibly the best part of his life shuffle around on bare feet with a frown on his face and a chipped coffee mug in his hand.

Isak turns to him and blinks twice when he notices Even staring. “Hm?” He says.

“Nothing,” Even says quickly. “Just… you didn’t answer my question. About…” He’s almost completely sure they were talking about something of value but for the life of him, he can’t remember what.

“The group project?” Isak says.

“Yes!”

“I’m gonna do it myself,” Isak says. “I can’t be bothered with that guy.”

“Are you going to tell your teacher about him slacking off?” Even asks, frowning a little. “You can’t just do it for him, that’s not fair on you.”

Isak shrugs. “Fuck it. He’ll get a six instead of me getting a four, I’m okay with that.”

“But-“ Even’s grasping for straws. It’s not a good look. “No.”

Isak snorts. “Wow, Even. You really convinced me.”

“Oh shut up,” Even says, feeling himself blush. “I just don’t want him taking advantage of you.”

“He’s not, I volunteered,” Isak says, seeming genuinely unbothered by it.

The fact that he doesn’t care is the opposite of reassuring. Even can almost feel his chest close in on itself, burdened with this confirmation of Isak’s willingness to put himself on the line for people who don’t deserve it.

“Do you need something in the store? I’m gonna go get some groceries and stuff when I’m done at the library,” Isak says, interrupting Even's train of thought.

“No, I’m fine,” Even says despite the fact that he ran out of apple juice yesterday and has been mourning the absence of it all through breakfast to the extent of him whining about it to his mum over text. She was not amused.

“Alright,” Isak says, waving a little as he exits the kitchen. “Text me if you think of something, I’ll probably be done around five, and then I’ll go shop.”

“I will.”

Even listens to him leave, feeling more torn than ever.

 

 

It’s about an hour later when the doorbell goes off and a symphony of boy voices comes through the intercom.

Even frowns looking down at his phone, scrolling through the group chat. “Did I miss something?”

“What, we can’t just barge in? What kind of friend are you?” Mutta says.

“Yeah, show some compassion for those who can’t be arsed to make plans,” Adam says.

“Alright, alright,” Even says, pushing the button. “Come on up.”

There’s a commotion in the stairwell a couple of seconds later, footsteps rapidly growing closer. Elias is in the lead when he pops up at the bottom of the final set of stairs, but Mutta’s legs are longer, sailing past him the last few steps.

“I am the king of stairs,” Mutta shouts as he flings his arms around Even. “The literal Stairmaster!”

Even laughs, claps him on the back. “Well done, mate.”

“Silver!” Elias exclaims, dunking his hand in the doorway seconds before Adam does the same.

They all cheer for Mikael who takes fourth and heckle Yousef who comes in last, his nose buried in his phone, an intense look on his face.

“Who is he messaging?” Even asks, looking at Elias. “Do we know?”

Elias snorts. “He’s not messaging anyone, that’s the sad part.”

When Yousef finally reaches them and pulls Even in for a hug, Even manages to steal a glance at Yousef’s phone and can see first-hand that Elias wasn’t wrong.

“Oh my god, Temple Run?” Even says. He turns to Mikael. “This is your fault.”

“It’s a classic game!” Mikael says, “And it gets better when you’ve come up a few levels, right Yousef?”

“Mhm,” Yousef says. “I’ve almost got enough gems to buy another map, it’s gonna be sick.”

“Still,” Even says. “It got old, like, years ago.”

“You got old years ago,” Mikael says petulantly.

“Are you gonna let us in or what?” Elias asks, gesturing to how Even’s still blocking the doorway.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

They all kick off their shoes and throw off their jackets, creating a multi-coloured pile of outerwear on the hallway floor.

“So, what’s up?” Even asks.

“Nothing, we just thought we’d come by since it's Saturday and you don't have class, see how you’re doing in your palace,” Adam says. “Anyone home?”

“Nah, they’re gone for the day,” Even says. “I was just re-watching Seinfeld, you in?”

“Ugh,” Adam says. “You need to get over that show. Spend some time in Bel Air or something.”

“Can’t we just chill?” Elias asks. “I’m stressed enough without you fighting over TV shows.”

“Why are you stressed?” Even asks, leading them into the living room, sinking down on the floor in front of the sofas.

“Just my mum,” Elias says. “I don’t think she trusts me since after I got, like, drunk and stuff.” He fiddles a little with his hoodie string, looking a little uncomfortable.

Even hadn’t been there as it had happened on one of the days he’d been stuck in his room, but he’d heard about it when he eventually worked up the energy to pick up his phone. Elias himself had called him as soon as he’d heard Even had been back in class, and they spent a few hours talking it through.

Elias hadn’t wanted to do it, but his stubborn streak had taken over and he’d ended up drunk enough that Sana and Yousef had to basically carry him home. Even can only imagine the Bakkoush’s reaction to their arrival.

“She’s probably just worried,” Mikael says.

“It’ll blow over,” Adam says. “You told her it was a one time thing, right?”

Elias nods.

Yousef looks up from his phone. “Still can’t believe you did that. That guy has been shotting vodka since sixth grade, you’ve got nothing on him.”

“He was being a dick!” Elias says. “He said there was no way I could do it.”

“And then you couldn’t do it,” Mikael says, snickering when Elias gives him the finger.

“Did you talk to your dad?” Even asks.

Elias nods. “He was pretty disappointed. I’m not gonna do it again though, so.” He shrugs. “Hopefully it’ll blow over.”

“I like your dad,” Adam says. “He’s cool.”

“You’re only saying that cause he fixed your elbow one time, like, five years ago,” Elias says.

“It was bleeding like mad!” Adam says, “And he made it stop in two seconds and gave me badass bandages and everything.”

“They weren’t badass, there was pictures of Pippi Longstocking’s horse on them,” Yousef says, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t diss the horse, man.” Adam points at Yousef, trying to look stern. “That horse is awesome.”

Yousef hold his hands up in surrender before going back to his phone.

“Do you guys want anything?” Even gestures to the kitchen. It’s not like he can boast with endless snacks and refreshments, but he still wants to be a good host. “I have… apples and stuff.”

“Aw, you trying to make us eat our five-a-day?” Mutta asks. “That’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” Even says. “I’m going to slice some and you can’t have any.”

Mutta gasps dramatically, a hand on his heart. He gets up to race Even to the kitchen, clutching the bowl to his chest when he gets there. “Don’t you dare deprive me of my vitamin c.”

“There’s actually not that much vitamin c in apples,” Even says. “Better go with an orange.”

Mutta looks down at the bowl, frowns. “You don’t have any oranges.”

“Oh. Too bad,” Even says, smirking. “Guess you’ll get scurvy then.”

“Is that an actual thing?” Mutta asks. “I thought that was just for people who live on boats.”

Even shrugs. “The disease is real, at least. Don’t know how many none-boat-people that actually get it though, I think you have to be pretty deprived before it happens.”

“Could you please stop talking about pirates and get over here with the fruit?” Elias shouts from the living room. “Also, can I have some hot chocolate?”

“Only if you make it yourself,” Even shouts back.

There’s silence for a few moments.

“Never mind.”

Even smiles and gestures for Mutta to go ahead and pass him into the living room. He’s not surprised when Mutta carries the bowl like it’s Simba, singing The Circle Of Life as he doles out the fruit.

 

After all the remnants of apples have been taken care of, most of them by being lobbed into the now empty bowl with various success, Even leans back in the sofa, trying to collect his thoughts. 

The bottom line is that he doesn’t want to do another round of secret keeping regarding his feelings. Isak was the one person who got him to keep a somewhat level head for the majority of the last couple of months, and if Even doesn’t have some kind of support while trying to figure this new thing out, he’s going to sink.

He also misses the feeling of relief coming from being completely open with his friends. The last time he had it was when he’d told them about his diagnosis, years ago.

He wants it back.

The problem, of course, is that he can’t tell them about Isak without telling them about his sexuality and he can’t tell them about his sexuality without the risk of losing them. No matter who he comes out to, that’s always going to be a risk.

He looks around the room. Mikael is tucked against one end of the couch, his legs stretched out, almost touching Even. Adam is sitting on the floor in front of him, humming a little as he doodles on an abandoned shopping list, Elias is gesticulating wildly as he talks about his latest winning streak of Fifa, Yousef has dropped his phone on the table and is in the middle of an argument disputing Elias about said win and Mutta is dozing off next to Even, his hair tickling Even’s neck where his head has dropped to lie on Even’s shoulder.

He loves them, all of them, in a fierce, all-consuming way and in the end, that’s all the motivation he needs. Before he can twist himself into creating yet another issue about opening up, he clears his throat to grab their attention.

No one notices.

Even rolls his eyes before raising his hand like a first-grader. Elias is the first to see it.

He shushes the rest of the guys before reaching over to grab hold of Mutta’s foot and shake it a little to get him to wake up.

Mutta protests sleepily but opens his eyes, sitting up a little straighter. “What?”

“Even wants to speak.”

“Cool,” Mutta says, snuggling in a little closer to Even, pushing his feet under Adam’s thigh.

Even takes a deep breath. “I need to tell you something, and I don’t…. Basically, it’s been a couple of days and, um.” He has to pause to gather a tiny bit of courage before rushing the rest of the sentence out. “I think I might like Isak, like, have feelings for him. Proper feelings of… liking.”

The words are rid of any doubt as he says them out loud, the clarity feeling a lot like happiness. He likes Isak. No bullshit, no mind tricks, nothing more than emotions, as pure as he can get them.

He looks up to find them all staring at him.

“What,” Elias says, his voice flat enough for it not to be a question.

“Man, I love you but you are so slow,” Adam says. “Are you kidding me?”

Even looks at them in confusion, dread building in his stomach. “What did I do?”

“Do you seriously think this is recent?” Elias asks. “Because it’s not.”

“Yeah, we’ve known about it for  _weeks_ ,” Yousef says incredulously. “We were just waiting for you to say something.”

Yousef immediately gets backup from the rest of the guys and it quickly deteriorates into a debate over who knew first and who stayed clueless the longest.

There’s a massive roadblock currently building inside Even’s head, their words making thoughts and feelings collide until everything’s come to a complete standstill. He looks around, scans their faces for clues on how to react, why they’re reacting like they are, as if this has been an obvious thing since the beginning when Even’s only catching up now, well into the second act. 

“But… I didn’t know.” His voice sounds small among their loud ministrations but is still effective in halting them.

“Well… shit,” Adam says.

Elias’ eyes are the worst, because even though they’re warm, they’re also filled with an almost pitying sort of sympathy. “Even.”

Even shrugs uncomfortably. “You could have told me,” he mumbles, even though he knows that’s a little unfair considering that would mean them acknowledging a sexuality he himself had yet to tell them about.

“We didn’t really know how,” Mikael says, a tentative hand coming out to pat Even’s arm, moving up to fix his tousled hoodie.

Even meets his gaze, feeling an immense relief when finding nothing but patience and understanding in Mikael's eyes. He looks around to see it mirrored in all their faces, the last bit of tension seeping from his body as the realisation seeps in.

They’re sticking by him. They’re going to stay.

Even has to press his lips tightly together to keep the embarrassing noise climbing up his throat from slipping out. He looks down on his lap, his hands tightly wound together. He feels Mutta move even closer, his body a warm presence along Even’s side.

“Do you know what you want to do?” Mutta asks.

Even shakes his head.

“That’s okay,” Mikael says. “You don’t have to know everything.”

“Not much chance of that anyway,” Adam says, taking the half-hearted shoulder punch from Even with a grin. “Nice to see that the gym’s paid off.”

“At least for one of us,” Even says, his voice wobbling just a little. It calms him when the instant reaction of over-dramatic indignation is the same as always. Even clears his throat. “Thanks for being, you know…”

“Cool?” Elias asks.

“Awesome?” Mutta asks.

“Ripped?” Adam asks.

“The best group of friends since TLC?” Mikael asks.

“Were they friends?” Mutta asks. “Or was it more of a co-worker situation?”

“I actually don’t know,” Mikael says, frowning. “Bad example, maybe. Hey, you could ask Isak that!” He pokes Even in the cheek. “You know, as a conversation starter. You can just go ‘hey, so were the girls in TLC close friends?’ and then you move onto how  _you’re_  good friends and then bam, declaration of love.”

“I kinda hate myself for not thinking that’s a terrible idea,” Yousef says.

“It’s not like he’s seeing someone, right?” Elias says. “You could just go for it, I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could  _hear me,_ ” Even and Mikael says simultaneously, intonation on point.

Mikael immediately holds his fist out for a bump, which Even gives without delay.

“Monica, man. She was so good in the early seasons,” Mikael says.

“But then she got reduced to the role of the wife obsessed with cleaning without any significant storylines of her own,” Even says dutifully. It’s a discussion they’ve all had multiple times, always following the same script.

“And the fact that she got married and settled down isn’t a good enough reason for writing her like that,” Mutta says, yawning through it.

“Because she got hitched to Chandler, and  _he_  had character development in the later seasons as well,” Adam says.

“Which means that they just gave up on her as a character,” Yousef fills in.

“And that’s some proper sexist bullshit,” Elias says, finishing it off with a not-so-nice hand gesture.

They give themselves a round of applause.

“Well done guys, I’m proud of you,” Even says.

“We’re proud of you too,” Elias says, the rest of them chiming in. Even preens under the attention, his cheeks growing hot.

“We’ll be even more proud when you’re getting some, though,” Elias adds, smirking.

“Ugh,” Even says, pushing Elias’ hand away when he leans in to ruffle his hair. His smile feels like it’s going to split his face in two.

 

 

They’ve had time to eat their way through all the bread in the house, loot Even’s wardrobe for warmer clothes after claiming to be cold from doing nothing but lounge around and listen to at least five albums worth of various Snoop songs before Mikael pulls Even aside.

“Where are you going?” Adam shouts after them as they walk down the hall to Even’s room. “Take me with you.”

“I just have to show Even something,” Mikael shouts back.

“Is it a rash?” Yousef asks, “Cause if it is, I’d recommend you get Elias to check it out since he has experience and all.”

The last thing they hear before Mikael closes the door behind them is Elias telling Yousef to “Shut up, I told you that in confidence.”

They laugh a little, loud in the otherwise quiet room. Mikael wanders around the room, picking up books and knick-knacks at random only to put them down again after a few seconds of inspection.

“So, what’s up?” Even asks. He’s leaning against the door, a precaution born from having had one too many one-on-one conversations interrupted with flimsy excuses from the guys in the past. Mikael looks like he could use some protection against it. “If you do have a rash, I’m probably not the best person to ask.”

“Why not? You’ve never had a haemorrhoid or something?” Mikael asks.

“Smooth as a baby,” Even says, taking a bow when Mikael applauds. “Thank you, I’ll pass on your compliments to the chef.”

“They did a good job in making that particular bun,” Mikael says before scrunching up his nose. “Actually, that sounds a bit disgusting.”

“What, talking about how my parents created me?” Even says. “How dare you? It’s the miracle of life.”

“More like the miracle of-“

“Hey!” Even interrupts, pointing a stern finger at him.

They both laugh, Even softening his stance when he sees Mikael relax a little, a goal well accomplished.

Mikael sinks down on the desk chair, swerving a little back and forth. “I just wanted to say that if the stuff with me was, like, part of why you didn’t tell us, then…” His hair flops down in his face, an irritated gesture to tuck it away immediately following. “I’m sorry.”

Even’s hands have grown ice cold where they’re tucked behind his back, clutching the door handle. “The stuff with you?” he says, his voice gone raspy.

“Yeah, when I freaked out about Anders,” Mikael says, his head still bowed, meaning that he doesn’t see how Even’s body almost collapses with relief.

“Oh,” Even breathes out. “No, it wasn’t because of that.”

Mikael scoffs. “Really? Cause I think so.”

Even bites his lip. “Okay, maybe that was a small part of it,” he says quietly. “But not for the stuff about Isak, just the stuff about me.”

Mikael nods. He stays quiet for a while, the vein at his temple a little more pronounced than usual, a fool proof sign that he’s mulling something over. Even leaves him be, taking the opportunity to slide down the door to sit, leaning his back against it.

He can hear the guys talking in the other room, the sound of their voices immensely comforting. He hopes Mikael can hear them too.

“You were with Sonja before,” Mikael says tentatively. “And now you want to be with Isak.”

Even nods. “Yeah.”

“So does that mean you’re… bisexual?” Mikael asks, looking a little uncertain.

“Pansexual,” Even says softly.

“Right, right,” Mikael says, “You like people, not genders. And it’s different from bisexuality, cause it’s about the specific person all the way through.”

“Um, well. Yeah.” Even furrows his brow. “How do you know that?”

“I told you I looked some stuff up a while ago,” Mikael says, a blush high on his cheeks. “That’s alright, isn’t it? Like, it’s not intrusive?”

“No, why would it be?” Even asks.

Mikael squirms a little. “Well, I read that when you’re an ally, you shouldn’t raise your voice above the people you’re supposed to support. So, like, not take up their space and stuff.”

The warmth spreads through Even’s chest like a blanket. He smiles. “You really went to town on this research, didn’t you?”

“Went to the library, actually,” Mikael says, aiming for condescending but ruining it with his proud smile. “The lady was really nice, she helped me find all the right books.”

“She’s barely spoken to me when I’ve been there!” Even says, slightly outraged.

“You’re not as charming as I am, clearly,” Mikael says. “Do you need some tips so you can get the ball rolling with Isak?”

Even’s smile dims a little. “Couldn’t hurt, I suppose. I don’t know,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair. “I really don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Sorry,” Mikael says. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” Even says. “I really want to, though.”

Mikael hums. His phone buzzes. “It’s Elias, he wants to know what’s taking so long.”

Even rolls his eyes. “That’s a shocker.”

“Right?” Mikael starts typing, “I’ll just send him ten clown emojis, that’ll freak him out.”

They sit silently, counting the seconds on their fingers. Before they’ve reached four, they hear a “fuck you, guys” from the living room. Mikael snickers.

“Such a baby,” Even says.

“We should maybe get back out,” Mikael says, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Um, do you want to tell them about-“

“Yeah,” Even says, a bit too quickly.

Mikael doesn’t seem to mind.

“Do you think they know what it means?” Even asks. “Or should I go with bi for now?”

“Absolutely not,” Mikael says, sounding offended at the very thought. “They can catch up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Mikael says. “Do you want to do it straight up, or do you want a twist?”

“What kind of twist is there to be had?” Even asks. It’s supposed to be rhetorical, but there’s an unmistakable glint in Mikael’s eyes. “Oh god. What?”

“Well, I was thinking that if you don’t want to do it the traditional way, you could do it through… Pictionary!” Mikael says, swivelling around to grab something on the desk. He turns back around, triumphantly holding up one of Even’s better sketching pens. “Loser has to buy kebabs for everyone, it’ll be awesome.”

“That sounds surprisingly tame,” Even says. “You can’t compete though.”

“No, of course not,” Mikael says, waving his hand. “I’ll be the judge.”

Even narrows his eyes at him. “You’re gonna make Yousef lose, aren’t you?”

“Duh,” Mikael says, getting up from his chair, “He’s the only one with a job. Do you think Mutta can afford to buy six kebabs? Please.”

Even smiles. He can’t remember feeling this light in months. When he’s close enough, Even pulls Mikael in for a tight hug.

Mikael clutches on, winding his arms around Even’s back. He smells like family, like comfort and calmness. They stand pressed closely together and Even’s heart doesn’t skip a single beat.

It’s an unbelievable relief.

“You’re so great,” Even whispers. “I’m so happy you’re my best friend.”

“I know, and you’re welcome,” Mikael whispers back.

Even laughs. “Ass.”

“Love you,” Mikael says, giving Even one last squeeze before letting go.

“Love you too,” Even says.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Yousef is declared the official loser of Pictionary. Absolutely no one is surprised.

 

 

He cleans up in the living room after the guys have left, even takes care of the dishes himself despite his deal with Isak that gets him out of it indefinitely, and potters around the flat when his phone goes off.

_Got a new hat. Your mum doesn’t like it._

Even snorts at the accompanying picture.  _That’s cause she’s got good taste. At least in hats, if not in husbands._

He gets an actual photo of his dad fake-crying back, since he still hasn’t grasped the concept of using emojis.

After sending back two hats and a stop sign, Even taps out of the conversation, scrolling through his list of contacts. He stops at Sana, pursing his lips. Out of all his friends, she is probably the one with the most objective opinion on all this. 

_Hey, Sana?_

_yep_

He types a few different versions of the next text, all of them sounding fake and contrite. The one he ends up with might be a bit too passive aggressive, but it’s the best he can do.  _What’s up with that guy Fredrik? Don’t you think he’s a little weird?_

_lol, no. why?_

Another text follows only seconds after.

_oh, right, I know why_

Even sighs.  _Has he said anything to you?_

_Fredrik?_

_No, Isak._

_I thought you meant Fredrik._

_I meant Isak._

_That makes more sense._

Even’s seconds away from pulling his hair.  _Sana. Seriously._

It takes a little longer for her to respond.  _Alright, let’s be serious. If you want info about Isak, you need to ask Isak. I’m not gonna be a go-between._

 _That’s fair._ Even bites his lip.  _But…. I don’t know what’s going on with him and Fredrik. I don’t want to just barge in._

It takes half an hour later for Sana to answer.  _I don’t think he would mind._

 

 

Linn gets home from her usual Saturday morning shift sometime in the hours between afternoon and early evening. Even can hear her throw off her coat before she shuffles closer to his room, poking her head in the door, catching him in the middle of a sing-along with the Fugees.

“I didn’t know you were home,” Linn says.

“Yeah, I decided to stay in all day,” Even says, shutting his laptop. “How was work?”

She shrugs. “Alright. Nothing special.”

Usually at this point in the conversation, Linn either disappears into her room or brings up the reason she started to chat in the first place. She’s not exactly big on small talk.

“I bought some stuff,” she says, apparently not in the mood for solitude.

Even settles in. “What kind of stuff?”

“Um, like, medicine,” Linn says. “For… depression and insomnia and stuff.”

“You bought it? Where?” Thoughts of black market deals immediately floods his mind, but he tries to put them aside, not believing that she would actually go that far. He can’t quite figure out another place for her to get her hands on the stronger, actual worth-while stuff without a prescription, which makes it slightly worrying.

“At one of those new age hippie health stores,” Linn says. “It's all herbs and stuff. Hang on.” She walks out and comes back with a bag filled with bottles of pills and various tubes and jars. “Do you use any of these?”

Even gestures for her to put it out on the bag, going through them all when they’re fanned out next to him.

“No, I don’t recognise them.” He tries to keep his voice casual as he continues, “You didn’t want to go to the doctor or something? This is a lot, I know this stuff isn’t cheap.”

Linn’s quiet for a moment.

“I don’t know,” she says eventually. “I read about this girl who got diagnosed and then she had a hard time finding a job and stuff cause of her… mental history.”

It’s not news, but it still stings. “That’s illegal, though,” he says, trying to remind them both. “They can’t do that.”

“Yeah, but they do,” Linn says, starting to gather the stuff back in the bag.

“Right.” He sounds smaller than he’d like to.

“Sorry.” Linn reaches out to grasp his shoulder for a second, patting it a little awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“I’m not sad, I’m bipolar,” he says, managing a smile.

She looks a little hesitant for a second before taking a seat next to him. “You know when I asked you about that? Before?”

“Yeah.”

“You said you could come with me to talk to someone.”

“Yeah.”

She nods, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Maybe we can do that… sometime. Not yet though. I don't want to- I just need to think about it first.”

“Okay,” he says, bumping their shoulders together.

“Okay. I have to leave again soon,” Linn says, sighing a little. “Just so you know.”

“Where are you going?” Even asks. “If you don't mind telling me. You might have scandalous secrets,” he adds with a smile.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s just sex.”

“With the one from uni?” Even asks. There have been few details about this guy but, from what Even’s been able to cobble together, he’s studies law and is an occasional bed partner of Linn’s. It’s not gone further than casual sex though since he is, in Linn’s own words, ‘kinda lame’.

Despite the mediocre praise, Even would like to meet him.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Linn says. “Again.” She doesn’t look anything other than moderately alright with the prospect.

“You’re not… is it something you’d rather not do?” Even asks carefully.

She waves her hand dismissively. “Nah, I’ll do him. It’s just a pain that he can’t come here, so I have to take the tram and stuff.”

“You can bring him here, we wouldn’t mind,” Even says. “This is your space as much as ours, if not more so since you were here first.”

“He’s really loud,” Linn says, her voice characteristically flat. “Like _, really_  loud. You wouldn’t like it.”

There’s not really that much to say to that, so Even just goes with, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Linn says.

“Are you spending the night?” He asks.

“Probably. It doesn’t take that long but, you know, I’ll probably go to sleep after, just out of habit,” she says.

Even snorts. “Alright then.”

 

 

Despite her only having been out the door for a few minutes, reassuring him that she’s fine to make it to the guy’s dorm without problem, Even still keeps a conversation with Linn going via text to make sure she’s okay.

If he asks her if she’s sure about staying out all night just a few times too many, Linn doesn’t comment on it. Even’s eternally grateful for her patience. He checks the time, his heart jolting a little when he realizes Isak should be home within the hour, at least if he kept to his study-schedule.

After a few minutes of indecisiveness, Even gets up from the bed and heads to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves to get started on the curry Isak’s liked best out of all the food Even’s made him so far. If Even wants to woo him, food seems like a good place to start. 

He has to pause for a second to take a deep breath before continuing pulling out pans, knives and cutting boards just to calm the thumping of his heart. He's going to go for it.

 

The food is almost done by the time there's a key in the door. Once again flooded with nerves, Even wipes his hands on his neatly tied apron and begs with his entire being that Isak’s coming home alone.

The single pair of footsteps approaching the kitchen brings the answer and Even breathes out slowly.

“Hey.”

He turns around to see Isak’s smiling at him, dumping his backpack on the floor. “Am I late? I didn’t know you were cooking.”

“No, you’re fine. Linn’s out, but I figured we could eat together anyway,” Even says, pretending not to notice the anxious tension seeping through in his voice.

“Cool, I’m starving,” Isak says. He comes up next to Even to unpack his shopping bag, unloading it on the counter, humming along to  _Ready or not_  playing from Even’s laptop. He opens the fridge and tries to shove it all in. “There was so many people in the store, I almost had to fight an old lady for the last carton of juice.”

Even frowns. “Juice? You don’t like juice.”

“I saw you’d run out,” Isak says, waving the carton a little before putting it on Even’s shelf.

It’s Even’s favourite brand, the organic one they only sell in the supermarket down by the park. There are three other shops closer to the flat, that one being in direct opposite direction when coming from the library.

Even’s mouth is dry and he can’t quite steady his hands whilst putting the finishing touches on the food.

Isak seems not to notice, finishing the unpacking with calm movements. He moves onto clearing the table from clutter, picking up the mail from the last week and starts sorting through it.

“Thank you,” Even says, finally finding his voice. “I- I can pay you back.”

Busy reading what looks like a flyer from a new pizza place, Isak gives only a distracted hum in reply.

Even takes the opportunity to look at him without being caught, cataloguing the way he always leans a little to the right when he’s standing still, the way his hair is escaping from under his hoodie, his eyelashes long enough to almost touch his cheeks when he squints.

A desperate bout of longing comes over Even and he has to turn back to the stove, has to add a bit more salt to the pot to calm down his stuttering heart, even though the curry doesn’t need it.

He can’t do this if he’s going to freak out any time he looks at Isak for more than a few seconds. He can’t do this if he doesn’t take advantage of all the love and courage he’s been given during the day. 

“Alright,” he says, pleased when his voice remains calm. “All done.”

 

They keep a light conversation going while they eat, taking turns in telling stories about their respective days. Isak’s been busy with biology and Magnus’ increasingly risky business ideas. Even watches him talk with a fondness he almost doesn’t recognise in himself.

The food, the talk, the backpack thrown on the floor.

He wants this. He could see himself having this.

Even is on his last bite when Isak’s phone goes off. It’s lying next to Isak’s plate and even though Isak himself doesn’t check it right away, Even does. All he can see is the name, but it’s enough for the cold to re-enter Even’s body. Isak catches him looking and picks up the phone, frowning for a moment before breaking into a small grin. He quickly types an answer and puts the phone screen-down on the table.

And just like that, all of Even’s bravery is gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, a huge amount of love goes to my beta extraordinaire [tess](http://modertheresa.tumblr.com) for sorting things like time lines and plot point, an equal amount goes to everyone who's messaged me, commented and left kudos. <3
> 
> the [tumblr post is here](http://icelandcurry.tumblr.com/post/162787078642/a-mental-archive-of-love-unwanted-chapter-7) aaaaand i'll (hopefully) see you next week!


	8. shopping trips and shattered breaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jamie Oliver takes over Sunday mornings and more than one breath is being held.

It's raining, the drops hitting the window in a way that's more dull than soothing. Even's stubborn in keeping his place by the window, not wanting to lose the romantic notion of sketching in a window sill, listening to the rain. 

After a few hours of restless fiddling with a sketch that never seem to take form, Even gives up and picks up the phone to call Mikael.

“Yo!”

“Hi, what are you doing?” Even twirls the tip of the pen around the page, creating aimless patterns.

“Nothing,” Mikael says. “That’s the beauty of unemployment.”

“Have you heard back from that office job?”

“Nah, they said they were doing interviews all week, so probably in a few days,” Mikael says. He sounds a little nervous about it, just like he had when he’d come out of the interview a few days before.

“It’ll be fine,” Even says. “Do you want to come over, get your mind off it?”

“Be there in fifteen,” Mikael says. “I’ll bring a surprise too, you’ll love it!”

 

“Scrabble?” Even stares at the game Mikael just put in his hand. “This is your big surprise?” 

“Yeah!” Mikael says, kicking off his shoes. “Everyone likes Scrabble. I found it in a charity shop yesterday, I think it’s missing a Z but otherwise it’s alright.”

Even smiles. “You giant dork.”

“Hey!” Mikael shoves him a little. “Just for that, you have to give me food.”

“Alright, fine,” Even says. “Scrabble first, then lunch?”

“Yes please.”

It’s been a while since Even’s played the game, but he gets off to a good start, spelling out a triple-score word within minutes. Mikael grumbles a little until he does the same, which makes him glow a little with pride.

They play mostly in silence until Even decides to ask the question that’s been bugging him since he came out to the guys.

“How did you know I have feelings for Isak?”

Mikael looks up. Even doesn’t.

“I don’t know. You’re pretty obvious when you like someone,” Mikael says.

Even can feel his mouth quirk up, but it’s not with mirth. “Sure.”

“Why is that bad?” Mikael asks, always the one who could read him the most easily with one glaring exception.

There are options here but all of them except the truth seem utterly exhausting. Even steels himself before speaking up. “Because I used to be really into you and you never noticed.”

The words don’t catch in his throat. They don’t choke him or break him. It’s almost laughable how easy they are to say now that there’s no agenda behind them, no motive besides wanting to come clean to his friend.

He’s not hoping for anything, which means taking the jump gets so much easier.

“What?”

Even shrugs. “Yeah.”

“That’s- okay.” Mikael is holding on to a tile with a tight grip, looking as if losing it would also mean losing his last shred of chill.

Even should probably put him out of his misery. “It’s no big deal. I just think your skills of perception are a little worse than you think they are.”

He reaches over to touch Mikael’s hand lightly, giving him a small smile. “You can let go of that, you know. It’s not the end of the world, I know you’re straight and that it wouldn’t lead to anything.”

”I’m really sorry,” Mikael says.

Even stares at him for a second. “Are you seriously apologizing for your sexuality right now?”

“Um, maybe?” Mikael says, looking a little insecure. “Like, that wasn’t… cool.”

Even laughs. “I don’t blame you for being straight, oh my god Mik. That’s not a thing.”

“I’ve heard people do it,” Mikael says.

“And were those people who other people slept with before declaring themselves to be straight?” Even asks, raising an eyebrow.

Mikael looks thoughtful for a second. “Oh, yeah,” he says, sounding as the revelation has been quite profound. “It was, actually.”

“I’m going to ask you a serious question right now,” Even says, narrowing his eyes.

Mikael visibly swallows. “Alright.”

“Have you had sex with me?”

“What?” Mikael says, before catching sight of Even’s growing smile. “Ugh, you dick. No, I haven’t had sex with you.”

Even pats him on the shoulder. “Exactly. Therefore, your sexuality isn’t something you should say sorry for. Those shorts, on the other hand…”

“Lay off the shorts!” Mikael says.

“Well, I wish you would,” Even says, earning an eye-roll in response.

They start up the game again, Even trying to figure out the best way to incorporate his seven consonants somewhere on the board.

“Were you upset?” Mikael asks quietly.

Even keeps his eyes on the tiles. “Yeah.”

Mikael nods. “Is it still…”

“No,” Even says, smiling a little. “I’m in pining with someone else now.”

Mikael rolls his eyes. “So dramatic.”

“Don’t mock me,” Even says. “I’ll cry.”

“No you won’t,” Mikael says, waving the notion away. “I’ve seen your crying face, we’re nowhere near it.”

Even snorts. “Just play a word, will you?”

“I will,” Mikael says grandly.

He puts down a C and a K to create ‘dickweed’. Even’s never been prouder.

 

*

 

There’s a tower of pizza boxes by the door, the sink filled with cutlery and the laundry hamper is overflowing in the bathroom.

“Did you seriously invite me over to help you clean?” Even asks.

His dad doesn’t even have the courtesy to deny it, simply nods happily and shoves the vacuum cleaner into Even’s arms. “There you go.”

“I’m not doing this! It’s not my fault she’s coming home in two hours,” Even says, putting the vacuum down to cross his arms.

“Sorry, that’s the way it goes,” his dad says, pulling on plastic gloves.

“Why?”

“Well, you know, we did clothe and feed you for nineteen years-“

“Yeah, thanks. It’s not like you should’ve known that would be required when you decided to have a kid,” Even says, rolling his eyes.

“And I bought you a skateboard and a telescope _and_ paid for you to go to rock-climbing camp,” his dad counters, raising an eyebrow.

They have a little bit of a stare-off. Even loses.

“Fine,” he says.

“Do you think we can get any money for that skateboard, by the way?” his dad says. “It is in pristine condition, after all.”

Even frowns. “I used it.”

“More than once?”

There’s a pointed silence before Even caves.

“Alright, so I only used it once. I did get pretty banged up though.”

His dad hums, scrubbing food spill from a plate. “Probably should have been prepared that falling over would be a part of learning to skate.”

“Still hurt,” Even says. “I scraped my knee and everything.”

His dad snorts. “I remember. I thought you’d amputated a leg or something, the way you were screaming. I’ve never seen Elias so stressed out before, he’s usually the calm one of the bunch.”

“He was pretty freaked,” Even says, smiling at the memory. He ignores the vacuum for now and concentrates on getting all the trash into a bag. “Damn, how many chocolate bars have you eaten?”

“You jealous?” His dad asks.

“Concerned. Mum’s only been gone four days, this is what happens?” Even frowns as he sets the bag aside and starts digging through the dishes.

“Hey, I managed to feed myself just fine. It’s just lacking finesse, that’s all.”

“I’ll say.” Even gets enough washing up liquid to drown a small nation into the sink, filling it up with steaming water.

“I just don’t want her to worry,” his dad says. “It’s not like it’s her fault I can’t cook.”

Even smiles at him. “Aw, that’s nice.”

“Don’t you dare call me a nice guy,” his dad warns, pointing a broom at him. “I don’t even own a fedora or nothing.”

“I would never,” Even says. “You do understand that I need to inform her about this disaster though?”

“Yeah,” his dad sighs. “I guess.”

In the end, they even manage to make a chocolate cake before his mum comes home, a feat celebrated with high-fives and merciless teasing.

 

*

 

Two days pass and Even is continuously making a fool of himself to anyone who will listen. It’s as if telling the guys about his feelings and finally coming clean about his sexuality has evaporated any boundaries he used to have on his ranting. The group chat has turned into a shrine to Isak’s dorky dancing and Isak’s laugh and Isak’s wit and hands and face.

It’s nothing short of a miracle that he hasn’t been blocked yet. Then again, he has strong suspicions that there’s a separate chat dedicated to things not related to Isak. Even has no interest in being a part of that one.

 

*

 

“We got you something,” Elias says the second Even walks through the door. 

They’re all going out later, Adam wanting to check out a new band playing at a club in the more hipster-y parts of town. For now, they’re hanging out in Yousef’s living room, the only house free from parents or roommates. There might have been a small intervention when Even tried to have the pre-game at his place, claiming he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything other than keeping track of how Isak’s night is going as he is busy hosting a pre-party of his own.

Even wonders if Fredrik’s in their flat right now. He wonders if he’s wearing another one of his ugly chinos, or if he’s upgraded to a full on suit. There’s no doubt that if he has, it would be one of the expensive and well-tailored ones, aiming to impress, which is ridiculous considering Isak isn’t even that interested in clothes and would probably not even notice the effort.

Even tugs self-consciously at his own ragged t-shirt as he imagines a suave-looking Fredrik convincing Isak that a well-dressed man is the only one worth having.

“Exactly,” Elias says, pointing at Even.

“What?” Even says, looking around. He’s fairly certain he hasn’t spoken since he came in.

“Your shirt. We have a new one for you,” Mikael says, almost jumping up and down in his seat out of excitement.

“What’s wrong with this one?” Even asks defensively, smoothing out the white fabric across his chest.

“Nothing,” Elias says, rolling his eyes a little. “It’s just that this one is better!”

He picks up a plastic bag and throws it at Even’s face.

Peering inside, Even sees nothing but a bunched up piece of fabric hiding at the bottom of the bag. He pulls it out.

“It’s the right ones, yeah?” Adam says. “Mikael swears it is.”

The t-shirt is divided in three different coloured blocks, a pink, a yellow and a blue.

Even’s throat closes up. He can feel five nervous pairs of eyes on him, so he nods a few times to reassure them.

“Yes!” Elias says, high-fiving the rest of the guys. “We ordered it from this website, but it was kinda sketchy so we didn’t know if it would actually show up. Pretty cool colours, actually. Should look good on you.”

“Hey, why isn’t there pink in the rainbow one?” Adam asks.

“It has a red one,” Mikael says.

“That’s not the same,” Adam says. “Doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t all the colours be in the main flag?”

Even carefully puts the shirt down on Yousef’s desk before pulling his old one off. The new one fits him perfectly.

“No, that’s not how it works. The asexual one has, like, black and grey in it,” Elias says.

“And white,” Mikael adds.

“Right,” Elias says. “And then the lesbian one has a bunch of shades of pink, different ones than the pan one.”

“Huh. I didn’t notice that,” Adam says.

“How do you not notice it?” Mutta asks, “It was right at the beginning of the book. I would think that out of all of us, you would be the one paying attention to the pictures.”

“Are you saying I can’t read?” Adam asks, sounding absolutely outraged but smiling at the same time. “I taught you to read bro, did you forget?”

“That’s why it took him a month to finish The Deathly Hallows,” Elias says, snickering when Mutta gasps in betrayal.

“I didn’t want to just plough through it,” Mutta says indignantly. “That shit was emotional.”

“Yeah, he did that on purpose,” Adam says, “Not because I’m a bad teacher, because I kick ass.”

Even’s picking a little at the hem of the shirt, letting his fingers seek out all the colours.

Yousef catches his eye. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“No, of course not,” Elias says. “We just thought it’d be a nice gift, you know.

“I-“ Even says, needing a deep breath before carrying on. “I’ll wear it. All the time. Probably make you sick of it, I’ll wear it so much.”

“It looks great on you,” Mikael says.

“Yeah, you look nice in primary colours,” Adam says before frowning. “Those are primary colours, right?”

Even interrupts the discussion that immediately follows by going around the room, hugging each and every one of them. He has to break all of the hugs himself, the guys refusing to let go until he does.

 

The club they’re going to is hidden away in a basement, only noticeable to those who already know it’s there. Even’s excited at the prospect of a night out with his boys but he’s not too keen on being squeezed into a group of strangers, all of them slightly drunk and slightly handsy.

“The shirt might have been a bad idea,” he says to Mikael after having had to rebuff the third person in ten minutes, this time a guy with a pretty fetching nose piercing.

“Nonsense,” Mikael answers. “You should do what your people do best in situations like these.”

Even raises his eyebrows at him. “Please don’t say divide and conquer, that’d be gross.”

Mikael laughs. “It’s kind of applicable, but no, I meant you should get a little wasted and forget about your troubles.”

“Oh, that’s what my people does?” Even laughs.

“Yup. I’ve done extensive research,” Mikael says. “In every film I’ve seen where the white male protagonist is moping around because of a love interest, he gets drunk to forget all about it and feel better.”

“And does it work?” Even asks.

Mikael shrugs. “Does this?”

Even orders a drink.

 

He ends up drunk enough to get out on the dance floor with the intention of finding someone to go home with. Between Isak and Mikael, he hasn’t had the time or motivation to go out to meet someone, and somewhere in his brain is an insistent voice telling him that even if it’s completely devoid of feelings, sex would be rather nice right now.

He doesn’t explicitly tell the guys, but the way they’re nudging each other and follow him at a distance speaks volumes. They’re keeping to the edge of the floor, casually checking up on him every now and then with a raised eyebrow or a wave.

It’s like having five slightly overbearing parents with him on a night out. He’s surprised to find he likes it.

Before two songs have passed, there’s a girl pressing up against his chest. Even hasn’t been really been able to look too closely on any of the people circulating the room despite the fact that he wants to, but now that he’s got a stranger who’s clearly interested, he can’t make himself excited about it. It just feels wrong, a betrayal to his feelings, if nothing else.

He gives her arm a light squeeze in apology before moving away, making his way back to his friends.

“What happened?” Elias asks.

Even reaches over to drain Mutta’s virgin Sex on the Beach, shrugging. “Nothing.”

“Sorry, man,” Mutta says, wrapping an arm around him. “It can’t work every time though.”

“It doesn’t work any time,” Even says, trying but failing not to look at Mikael.

Mikael’s expression turns sad. Even shakes his head, mouthing a _sorry_ , which Mikael waves away.

“At all?” Adam asks, “You should get that checked, that doesn’t sound good.”

“What are you talking about?” Elias asks.

Adam looks around at them. “What are _you_ talking about?”

“The fact that I can’t get Isak out of my head long enough to hook up with someone,” Even says slowly.

“Ooh, right,” Adam says. “I thought you were talking about, you know…” He gestures vaguely at Even’s crotch.

“Jesus,” Even groans, slapping Adam in the chest. “No, what the hell?”

“I was worried! You said it never worked, what was I supposed to think?”

“Wow,” Yousef says. “Well, it’s nice to see where your head’s at.”

Mutta pulls at Even’s sleeve. “You have to come with me to the bar and get a new drink.”

“Alright,” Even says, allowing Mutta to drag him along. They get to the bar and manage to squeeze in next to a group of girls in party hats.

“Maybe I should start wearing hats,” Mutta says contemplatively.

“You got the head for it,” Even says, patting said head.

“Thanks!” Mutta leans in to get the bartender’s attention, turning to Even as she starts walking over. “Do you want anything?”

“I’m good,” Even says.

“Can I get a virgin Pina Colada?” Mutta asks. "Without the ice?"

The bartender looks at him, thoroughly unimpressed. “So... you want a glass of pineapple juice?”

“And coconut cream!” Mutta says, beaming at her. “For that exotic spin.”

She gives a reluctant smile. “Alright.”

Mutta turns back to Even, who rolls his eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Even says. “Just… I like you.”

Mutta smacks a kiss on his forehead. “Like you too.”

 

Elias walks with him home, the night still not fully dark.

“How are things with your parents?” Even asks.

“A little better,” Elias says. “I have Sana on my side, that helps a lot. She’s good at arguing for me.”

“She’s great,” Even says. “Isak says she’s the smartest in the year and that she’s helped him, like, a billion times this semester.”

Elias smiles. “That sounds like her.”

“He bought a card to thank her for it. It had a kitten on it,” Even says, hearing the fondness oozing out of his voice.

Elias nods. “He’s nice. Dad really likes him.”

“Everyone likes him,” Even says.

“I think you might be biased,” Elias says, smirking.

Even shrugs, not wanting to get into a discussion which would surely start out light enough but then lead to him unloading every single insecurity he has regarding his relationship with Isak and how what should have been easy has been twisted into a knot of jealousy that his mind won’t let go of no matter how hard Even tries to untie it.

“Hey,” Elias says, moving closer so that their arms swing together as they walk. “It’ll be alright. Even if it all goes to shit, it’ll be alright.”

Even tries to believe it.

 

*

 

He wakes up with a surprisingly mild hangover, not feeling like death as he expected. He spends a few minutes staring up at his ceiling, going through the previous night and how he so spectacularly failed to be carefree enough to kiss someone not shaped like Isak.

It’s not that he regrets not doing it, it’s just that he can’t see any night ending differently for the nearest century, at least. It’s a slightly pathetic thought.

 

After checking his phone, going to the bathroom and listen for sounds from Linn and Isak, it’s made clear that Even is awake, alone and severely dehydrated. Padding out to the kitchen, he pulls open the fridge and grabs the juice that Isak bought him, which has remained unopened by pure sentiment alone until this very moment.

He drinks straight from the carton for ten full seconds, relishing in the coldness making its way through his body. He does feel a little bad about opening it but, as the sappiest part of his brain whispers, he can always just keep the empty carton.

It’s when he puts the juice back on the shelf that he sees it. At first, he just stares at it, genuinely dumbfounded. Then, he pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket and dials.

“He left me a plate,” Even says as soon as Mikael picks up.

“What are you talking about?”

“Isak. There’s a plate in the fridge with food he must have made yesterday.” Even looks a little closer. “And there’s a note. There’s a plate and a note, what the fuck do I do with that?”

“I’ll start off by saying that your mum has done this for you many times,” Mikael says, teasing smile evident in his voice, “and you never freaked out then.”

Even makes an irritated noise while carefully peeling the post it note from the plate, not wanting to tear the cling film, shutting the fridge door to lean back against it. “Mik.”

“Alright, alright. What does the note say?”

“It just says _Even_.” He traces the letters with his thumb. “But it’s written really nicely.”

Mikael sounds very much like he’s trying to tamp down a laugh.

Even frowns. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Sorry,” Mikael says, clearing his throat. “What do you want to do? You were kinda keen to move on last night, at least for a little while.”

“That didn’t work, did it?”

“Not really, judging by the way you’re whining right now.”

“I’m not whining! I’m just sad because he cooked an actual meal all by himself and then left me some of it with a note and he made me tea when I was down, and then he goes and smiles at his phone and I want him to smile at _me_.” Even tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling. There’s a tiny stain, possibly from tomato sauce, right above him. He squints at it for a bit, waiting for Mikael to respond.

“He does smile at you,” Mikael says slowly. “A lot. You know that, right?”

“I want more of them,” Even says. “I want all of them.”

“That’s a little greedy,” Mikael says, but his voice is kind. “It’s not… you can’t make him want you, Ev.”

It’s so reminiscent of the time he sat with Isak, admitting his feelings for Mikael for the first time. The irony makes his throat knot up, because this is probably it for him. Falling for a close friend over and over again until they’re all off and married, happy in a relationship that doesn’t include him.

He wants Isak, he wants him in a different way to how he wanted Mikael. It’s all-consuming in a way that’s almost frightening.

“I know,” he says eventually. “I’m just sick of feeling like this. I- fuck. I don’t know.”

Mikael sighs. “I get that. I mean, when I was trying to talk to Laura and she just shot me down, it was just… awful.“

“Mm,” Even says. “How are you doing with that, by the way?”

“It’s alright now,” Mikael says. “Time is a band aid and all that.”

Even smiles. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“Well, it’s how I roll.” There’s an additional voice on Mikael’s end. “Be right there! Gotta go, Ev, mum needs a hand.”

“Say hi from me,” Even says automatically.

“Will do,” Mikael says. “Text me if you need something, alright? Byyye!”

“Thanks, bye,” Even says before Mikael hangs up.

He goes back to his room still a little hungry but with a new post-it note to put on his wall.

 

It’s nearing on noon when Isak comes home, his characteristic shuffling steps now forever ingrained in Even’s every day life. 

Even takes a few seconds staring up at the ceiling from where he’s lying on his bed to re-evaluate his current status with Isak. Isak probably needs to be a friend more than anything right now. He deserves it too, after all the emotional hiccups he’s helped Even through.

As if pulling on a body vest, Even slips into the armour of a protector and stands up to meet any and all of Isak’s demons.

 

“Hi,” Even says as he comes out into the living room, stopping at the sight of Isak flopped face-down on the couch.

He gets a half-hearted wave in return. “Hello.” Multiple cushions muffle Isak’s voice.

“Are you okay?” Even asks tentatively, moving to sit on the opposite couch.

Isak does a body roll in slow motion. He’s got an old, threadbare sweater on in faded red. Even wears a heart in the same colour.

“Tired,” Isak says, his eyes closed. He snuggles into the back of the couch, drawing his knees up. Never has anyone looked more touchable. “Had a talk about, like, emotions and stuff. Exhausting.”

“Okay,” Even says slowly, trying to read Isak’s mood. Sometimes he likes to be shut off for a while, no questions welcome. Even can’t quite tell if this is one of those times.

Isak saves him the trouble. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever wanted to just forget about Mikael? Like, I know that you’re really close but hasn’t it ever been too much?” Isak squints at him, his hands disappearing underneath the pillow under his head. “I feel like I just want to get away from all the feelings and just… not have them weigh everything down.”

Even shakes his head slowly. “No. I’ve never wanted that.”

There’s a flash of disappointment on Isak’s face. Even scrambles to make it disappear.

“I’m not saying it hasn’t been shit, like, you know that,” Even says. “But still, it’s nice to know I can have those feelings without them being… made up by something else.”

Isak looks at him for a moment, not even a hint of pity in his expression. “Of course you can have those feelings,” he says softly.

Even shrugs, embarrassed when the words hit harder than they should. “That’s not really a given.”

“Yes, it is.”

Even looks at his hands, trying his best not to imagine them intertwined with Isak’s. He doesn’t succeed but, then again, he hardly ever does.

He looks back up at Isak, who’s still watching him through tired eyes. “Is this about Fredrik? Did you talk to him?”

It takes a minute for Isak to nod. “Yeah. It’s about him. He… he got a little angry.” He shrugs. “So then we had to have an even longer talk about shit I thought we could forget about. Apparently not.”

“Why was he angry?” Even asks, his imaginary body vest tightening, gearing up for a fight. “It was a long time ago, he doesn’t have to be a dick about it now.”

Isak, if possible, curls even further back into the couch. “Um… well not really. You know the party we went to?”

“Yes.”

“Well, after you and Jonas left I just… I told you I didn’t want to talk to him because I was drunk.“

“And high,” Even fills in, choosing that one because he can’t bring himself to mention the third reason Isak gave.

“Right,” Isak says. “So after you left, we, I mean. It just happened and it was stupid, but like, I thought it was just a drunk thing but he didn’t and when I mentioned it he got upset.”

Even has no right. He has no right to a single ounce of the jealousy hitting him in the chest. He has no right to be this upset. His feelings for Isak shouldn’t hinder Isak’s life, shouldn’t be a crutch Isak should have to carry and adjust to.

It still hits him, and he doesn’t know how to make it out of this moment without Isak noticing, Isak figuring it out, Isak _knowing_. He can’t know, not now. This isn’t something Even should let slip while Isak is looking for a friend.

It’s been quiet for a beat too long when Even speaks. “I don’t think that’s okay of him, to get angry when you never promised anything. You don’t have an obligation towards him.”

“Well, as citizens of the earth, we all have a responsibility towards each other,” Isak says drily.

It almost hurts to smile, but Even can’t help it. There’s too much fondness to keep it all inside. Abruptly changing the topic seems like the way forward. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

“I don’t drink tea,” Isak says.

“So you keep saying.” Even stands up, giving Isak’s ankle a gentle pat to get him to follow. “Come on.”

Even makes them a pot of bergamot tea. Isak drinks two cups sitting on the counter, swinging his legs to the rhythm of the conversation. Even drinks too quickly and ends up burning his tongue, over and over again.

 

“I don’t feel like I have an obligation towards him,” Isak says, after their cups are washed and dried. 

“Good,” Even says, sitting down on top of the table, opposite of Isak who’s back on the counter.

“It was still a bit shit of me to go home with him,” Isak says, his voice growing quiet enough that Even has to try and read his lips to make out the words. He’s not looking at Even.

“Why?” Even asks, unable not to even though he’s not sure he wants an answer.

Isak shrugs, a motion too jerky to be casual. “Just was.”

Desperate to break the tension, Even takes to the clichés. “Well, what's done is done.”

Isak gives a short laugh, completely derived of joy. “Yeah. I guess.”

Even can only nod in acknowledgement, pathetic in his constant failure to soothe. He can feel his armour fall off, disintegrating after a too long period of not being used.

There’s a bird singing outside the window, bringing a streak of lightness into the heavy room. Even busies himself looking out and trying to see what kind of bird it is, eager to escape the tailspin his thoughts are about to partake in, surely ending in a mess of self-despair.

Isak’s voice brings him back.

“Even?”

“Mm?” It might be a blackbird, he can see an orange beak peaking out of the branches of a nearby tree.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell Mikael how you feel?”

Even whips his head back. Isak looks nervous, as if he’s afraid of having overstepped. There’s so much he doesn’t know, and yet he’s the one person Even wants to tell everything to, Even’s constant first choice.

This could be a start, if not nearly enough to bridge the abyss between them, made up by Even’s fabrications and attempts at self-preservation.

“I already did,” Even says. “A few days ago. It just slipped out.”

“Slipped out?” Isak sounds disbelieving. “Just like that? When were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, no,” Even says, “No, no, no, not like- nothing happened. I’m not interested in… that. Anymore. Haven’t been for a while.”

“What? But-” There’s a stressed blush spreading over Isak’s cheeks. “You want to be with him. You always want to be with him.”

It almost sounds rehearsed, like a mantra repeated until made into a truth.

“I used to,” Even says, shoving a hand in his hair, pulling a little to regain focus, the sting of it helping him find the words. “It’s been a while where the feelings just faded and then one day, I was just… not interested in him like that.” Even rolls his eyes. “Good timing too, cause he’d been seeing this girl and he clearly needed a hand from an unbiased party to sort it out." He smiles a little at the memory of the relief he felt when he’d been able to have his best friend back, in every way possible.

He looks up at Isak, not quite sure how he’s going to react to yet another thing Even should have told him a long time ago. 

Isak gives nothing away, his face carefully blank. “Oh.”

Just as Even’s about to ask is Isak’s alright, there’s a key in the door. “Hello?”

It’s Linn, and she’s not alone.

“Hi!” Eskild sings, storming into the kitchen with hugs and kisses for them both. Even’s hug is a little lacklustre, but Isak seems to hold on for a beat longer than Eskild expected, making him frown when he pulls away. “Did-“

“No.” Isak sniffles, dragging a hand across his face. “Um, hi, what are you doing here?”

“I ran into Linn, so I figured I’d tag along, see how you’re all doing.” Eskild stays close to Isak, but turns to give Even a smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Even says. It feels like a lie. “Do you want some tea? I think I still have some of that Earl Grey you like.”

“You’re a godsend,” Eskild says. “Although, I think I’m going to pop into Isak’s room for just a sec before enjoying my beverage. I’ve missed the interior decoration of that place.”

He nudges Isak down from the counter and leads the way down the hall. Isak pauses in the doorway, opens his mouth but closes it again and simply nods at Even before following Eskild.

Even fills up the kettle and stays in place as it heats up, staring at the bubbles bursting on the surface.

 

They end up playing Monopoly, Eskild being outrageous in his spending and Linn hovering her two streets like a vicious mama bear. Isak is strategic and Even is hopeless. 

Every time Even lands on one of Isak’s streets and Isak beams at him, holding his hand out for the required fee, Even has to stop himself from emptying his bank account just to keep the smile a little longer.

 

*

 

Even pokes around the cupboard, looking for the packet of raisins he knew he bought a few weeks ago, listening to his mum go through all of the stuff they’ve found while cleaning the basement. He shifts the phone a little, standing on his tiptoes to see the corners of the upper shelf.

Nothing.

“So, do you want any of it?” His mum asks.

“No, I don’t think so,” Even says, shutting the cupboard door. “What would I do with skates anyway?”

“Well, you could always use them if there’s a bad winter,” his mum says. “Skate to school, maybe.”

Even snorts. “I doubt they still fit me.”

“That’s true. You have got comically large feet now,” his mum says contemplatively.

“Very funny.” He looks up to see Linn in her reindeer pyjamas, barely awake as she makes a beeline for the coffee pot. He slides into place in front of it, pointing towards the teapot on the stove.

She makes a face but pulls out a mug and fills it with chamomile before giving Even a small smile, going back to her room. They did the grocery list yesterday, Even looking up some new recipes for the coming week, so she’ll probably not be out until the early afternoon, late enough for the early Sunday-birds to have done their shopping already.

“Are you going to come home next week for my birthday?” His mum asks.

“You just want me to make you breakfast in bed,” Even says.

“Well, yeah. Your father can’t cook and I need my pancakes,” she replies, sounding a little put out. “Are you going to just abandon the tradition now that you’ve gotten yourself a new swanky pad?”

“No, no, I’ll be there,” Even says. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Alright, good.” His mum drops something on the other end, the sound of it muffled but unmistakable. “Oh crap-sticks.”

Even laughs. “You can swear properly, mum, it’s not like I don’t know all the bad words already.”

“I hardly ever do,” his mum says. “When you’ve been censoring yourself for years, it’s surprisingly hard to get back into it.”

“Maybe you could go to a seminar?” Even suggests, turning around to get two mugs out, loading one up with sugar. “Relearn all the swearwords.”

“Would that be called a... fuckfest?” His mum asks.

“Mum! Oh my god, I’m hanging up,” Even says.

“I knew it! You want your mum to be an old prude,” his mum says triumphantly.

“Well, if this is the alternative, then yes.” He pours tea into the mugs, squeezing the phone in between his shoulder and ear so that he can carry them both into the living room.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be pg-13 for a while longer.”

“I appreciate it,” Even says, carefully sitting down, still balancing the cups. He puts them down and reaches for the remote. “I have to go in a minute.”

“I know, I know,” she says. “It’s almost Simpson snuggle time, I get it.”

Even blushes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“I'm just kidding,” she says. “But you know you can talk to me, right? About… stuff.”

Even should have known that she would know. “Have you been talking to Mikael?”

“I may have run into him at the store,” his mum sniffs. “But he didn’t tell me.”

“Who did?” Even fiddles with the remote, scratching some dirt off the home button.

“You,” his mum says simply. “I know you quite well and after a while, it was just there.”

Even breathes out slowly. “Yeah. I guess it was.”

His Isak sense tingles just before the man himself comes into view, seemingly in the middle of composing a text on his phone, squinting at the screen.

“Alright, mum. I’ll talk to you later,” Even says hastily, scooting over a little and patting the nearby cushions to make the place next to him the most attractive choice of seating.

“Have fun,” his mum says. “Tell Isak hi from me.”

“Will do. Bye!” Even barely gives her time to say bye back before he’s hanging up. “Hi, hello, good morning.”

“Morning,” Isak mumbles, sinking down next to Even. He locks his screen before pushing the phone onto the table, burrowing deeper into Even’s side.

He’s so soft when he presses closer; completely unassuming in the touches he gives, simply looking for a soft place to rest.

Even would like that to be his permanent position.

“Did you sleep?” Even asks quietly, aching to reach out and brush the wayward hair away from Isak’s face.

“Mhm.” Isak stretches a little, curls his feet up underneath himself. “Did you?” he asks, his tone making it clear to be more than an afterthought.

“Yeah.” Even turns on the TV, flips through the channels. “It’s on soon, let me find it.”

“Can’t we watch something else?” Isak asks.

Even gives him an incredulous look. “ _You_ want to watch something else? You’re literally wearing a Simpson’s shirt right now.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “So? I can watch other things.”

“Okay,” Even says, helpless in giving in. He’s lucky Isak doesn’t hold any extreme political beliefs, otherwise Even would find himself on a barricade before long. “What do you want to see then?”

Isak purses his lips at the screen before brightening, patting Even’s arm. “Stop, stop, stop. This one.”

Even has to wrestle himself to look away from Isak and focus on the TV, curious to see what's caught Isak's eye. “A cooking show?”

“Mhm. I want some tips.” Isak yawns, letting his head fall down to lie on Even’s shoulder.

“I give you tips all the time! Are you saying Jamie Oliver is better than me?” Even goes for outrage, hoping it’ll cover the sudden staccato of his breath.

“You do give good tips,” Isak says, too tired to take the bait. “I like it when you teach me things.”

Even’s entire being levels up. He leans impossibly closer, imagining that he can feel Isak shift into it. They watch quietly for a while before Even’s reminded of something.

“Oh, thanks for the food yesterday. That was- Um. I appreciate it.”

“You didn’t eat it,” Isak mumbles. “It’s okay, it was probably rubbish anyway.”

“I’ll have it for lunch today,” Even says. “I was just really hung-over. And you wouldn’t have left it for me if you didn’t think it was good, would you?”

“Dunno,” Isak says. “Didn’t eat it.”

Even’s heart skips one beat, two beats, three. “Why would you make it if you weren’t gonna eat?”

Isak shrugs. The tips of his ears are read. “Didn’t want you to be hungry when you came home.” 

Something inside Even breaks and he can’t help but reach out. His hand shakes a little when it brushes through Isak’s hair, his fingers combing through the curls, pushing them back carefully so he can see Isak’s face a little better.

Pulling his hand back is almost painful.

“Thank you,” he says, not even caring about the slight wobble in his voice.

Isak makes a half-aborted nod, his eyes stubbornly stuck on the TV. “You’re welcome.”

 

Usually Isak dozes off a couple of minutes after dropping down on the couch but this time, he stays awake for almost an hour before his breaths go deep and his body surrenders to sleep, drooping further into the fabric of the cushions and the fabric of Even’s shirt. 

Even wriggles carefully so that he can get an arm around Isak’s shoulders, a gesture bolder than he typically allows himself. Isak feels smaller like this, tucked into Even’s side.

He watches another episode of Jamie Oliver without registering a single frame. Isak has taken five hundred and sixty two breaths by the time they reach the credits.

Even can’t breathe at all.

 

Linn comes out to the living room sometime after lunch, Isak having disappeared into his room a few hours earlier with an excuse about needing to finish an assignment before them going shopping. Even ate alone, watching cartoons on the telly and trying to sort out his thoughts.

He hasn’t really gotten any stellar results, but he keeps trying as they all gather their coats and shoes to pop down to the shop.

Linn walks next to him, close enough for Even to link their arms together, squeezing hers a little. She squeezes back. Isak is trailing behind, and Even turns around to find him scrutinizing a flower growing through the pavement.

He shrugs a little sheepishly when he notices Even looking. “It’s nice.”

“Great colour as well. Is it a new find, doctor Valtersen?”

“What kind of doctor would I be if I knew that?” Isak asks, scrunching up his nose. Even imagines having the freedom to kiss it, a heady thought.

He collects himself enough to keep the conversation going. “A flower doctor, of course!”

“Wow, alright. Flower doctor,” Isak says. “That sounds like a real thing.”

“Excuse me, I’m a university student so therefore, I am the authority on this,” Even says, laughing as Isak rolls his eyes.

Isak catches up, coming to walk next to Even so that he can steal warmth from both him and Linn, which in and of itself is a goal worth accomplishing.

 

They get through the doors to the supermarket, Isak grabbing a cart and Linn pulling out the shopping list, Even providing her with a pen for checking stuff off. 

“We need pasta,” Linn says.

“Alright,” Isak says, turning to walk towards the meat. Even puts a hand on his shoulder, carefully steering him in the right direction.

“I thought it was over there,” Isak says, sounding genuinely confused. "Isn't it?"

They’ve been in this store at least once a week since Even moved in. Somehow, it still comes off as endearing.

“You’re hopeless,” Linn says. “No offence.”

“None taken, Linn,” Isak says, smirking at Even. “It’s not my fault that I’m not a location doctor.”

Even snorts. “Sure, blame it on that. What kind of pasta do we need?”

“It says spaghetti,” Linn says, checking it off as Even puts it in the cart.

“Nice,” Isak says, leaning over to read the label. “It’s organic?”

“Of course it’s organic if Even picked it,” Linn says absentmindedly.

“We should make an effort to be more eco-friendly,” Even says, despite knowing he’s speaking for deaf ears. “It doesn’t take that much of an effort.”

Isak just nods, nice enough to at least feign interest. Linn ignores them both in favour of picking up a packet of gnocchi.

 

“Where’s Isak?” Linn asks ten minutes into their visit.

Even puts the honey down in the cart, takes a peak down the aisle but can’t see neither a snapback nor a pair of jeans with holes in the back, which means Isak has wandered off somewhere.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ll find him.”

“I’ll pick up the rest of the stuff,” Linn says. “Do we really need five cans of coconut milk?”

“Isak likes it,” Even says. “I have it in a lot of stews and stuff.”

“Okay, fine,” Linn says, already focused on the next thing on the list.

Even searches through a few aisles before catching sight of Isak. He’s sat one of the portable stairs the staff uses when restocking the higher shelves, engrossed in his phone. As Even gets closer, he can hear the sound from one of Isak’s favourite games, annoyingly declaring every move Isak makes.

Even walks right up to him, almost standing toe to toe without Isak reacting. “Hello.”

Isak jerks back, head snapping up to look at him. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“Finding a lot of condiments in there, are you?” Even asks, pointing at the phone. He raises an eyebrow. “Linn is about to commit mutiny, you know.”

“She’ll be fine,” Isak says, waving the thought away. “I’ll just use my infamous charm on her.” He does a terrible impression of a wink but it’s enough to wake up every nerve in Even’s body.

“Can I talk to you?” Even says, his mouth running ahead of his mind. “Like, in private?”

Isak looks around, seemingly scanning the area before returning his gaze to Even, a small smile on his face. “I don’t think there is a private place here. I mean… it’s a shop.”

“I know, I just-“ He can’t take any more of the back-and-forth, any more nights lying awake trying to listen if Isak’s on the phone to someone whose name Even would like to never think of again. He’s so done with waiting. “We’ll do it when we get home, then. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Even says, clenching his jaw to keep the other words in. “Let’s go.”

 

The walk home is excruciating. There are so many different speeches he’d like to make, so many declarations he’d prefer to have written down and rehearsed before reciting them back to Isak. He doesn’t have time for that, doesn’t even have the option to take notes on his thoughts since the handles on the shopping bags is currently making dents in his hands and there is no pen or paper in sight.

“Why didn’t we bring the tote bags?” He asks no one in particular. “These plastic bags are shit.”

“Okay,” Isak says, looking slightly concerned. “I guess we’ll bring them next time.”

“I’m just saying,” Even mutters, shifting his grip and imagining a reality where his every day life actually would coincide with his emotional one. The conversation they're about to have suddenly feels too big for a non-descript Sunday. It could ruin everything.

It could also bring everything together.

 

Soon, way too soon, they reach their street, Linn unlocking the door and holding it open. Even wants to give a smile in thanks but is too preoccupied with the slope of Isak’s neck as he passes him by to follow through. 

The next minute comes in flashes, punctuated by the increasingly fast beating of Even’s heart.

Three flights of stairs up to the flat.

Three.

Two.

One.

Taking the keys out. Unlocking the door. Unloading the bags. Putting the food in the fridge, in the pantry, on the kitchen counter. Linn disappearing into the living room. Even twisting himself in knots, breathing, breathing, not breathing.

Isak standing in front of him.

Even opens his mouth, but he can’t find the words, almost choking on the weight on everything he needs to say.

“Come on,” Isak says gently, touching Even’s arm briefly before starting to walk, a gesture not necessary to get Even to follow.

They go into Isak’s room. It’s been a while since Even’s been in here, he’s avoided it lately. The sight of it now is more scary than it is welcoming, even though everything’s stayed the same, from the striped duvet cover to the three empty walls, the fourth covered in posters, news paper clippings and some of Even’s drawings.

They both stay standing, Isak gesturing a little towards the bed but drops his hand when Even shakes his head. Even clears his throat, feeling like one would when nearing the final countdown to the ending of the world.

“I have something to say,” Even starts, the words ridiculous in their formality.

He wants to move closer. He’s not sure he can.

“I... I told the guys about me not being straight.” It seems like the easiest place to start.

“Really? That’s great!” Isak says, before pausing, taking a closer look at Even’s face. “Wait, was it bad? Did they have a problem with it?”

“No, they were fine,” Even says, managing a small, but honest, smile. “They bought me a shirt.”

“A shirt?”

“With the pan colours,” Even says. “It’s really nice.”

“I knew they were going to be supportive,” Isak smiles.

“I think I did too,” Even says. “It was just scary to come out and say it.”

Isak snorts. “Come out and say it, really?”

Even rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Isak leans back against the book case and Even can’t help but let his eyes slide down, taking in his knobby knees, his sweater paws and the slight tint of pink covering his cheeks. 

It’s not supposed to be this difficult. The only thing that’s missing is courage, and Even will fabricate his own if he has to. He can’t wait any longer.

Even swallows, his throat like sandpaper and his legs like jelly. He takes a halting step forward. Another.

Another.

Isak is standing very still, but his hands are shaking.

“I-“ Even has to pause, clear his throat before pressing on. His voice is shot to pieces. “I told them something else too.”

Isak stays quiet, his eyes flitting over Even’s face, trying to read him.

“I told them even though I shouldn’t have.” Even moves yet a little closer. “Even though there was someone else I should have told before them.”

Isak’s breath stutters and Even can’t help but reach out, his hand coming up to rest in the air just next to Isak’s waist, the ghost of his warmth heating up Even’s palm, making it tingle in anticipation for the touch Even’s not yet sure is going to be allowed.

Isak finally meets Even’s eyes and everything but honesty disappears.

“I’m so... I’m _so_ in love with you.” It’s not even a whisper, but he knows Isak can hear him, can feel it in the way the air grows thicker. The words sounds so simple when spoken out loud. “Isak. I’m so, so in love with you. And I’m not- I’m not asking you for anything. I just- I just wanted you to know.”

Linn’s phone goes off somewhere out in the flat, an obnoxious ringtone cutting through the silence. Isak is not saying anything and Even hates himself, hates himself, hates himself.

“I’m sorry,” Even mumbles, starting to push back, not wanting to crowd into a space he’s not welcomed to share.

He’s wrecked it, them, everything. He’s destroyed any chance of normalcy between them. He can practically feel his heart shutting down, going into self-preservation mood.

And then Isak moves into his touch.

He crowds in closer, making Even’s hand slide into place against Isak’s waist, leans forward just enough for their breaths to mingle. “You’re so stupid,” Isak whispers.

Even only has time to count the freckles on Isak’s cheek before Isak tilts his head to softly, slowly press their lips together.

Even closes his eyes without thinking, lost as the reality of it seeps in. There’s a soft sound escaping from Isak’s lips, Even chasing it with his own. His hand slides up to touch an arm, a shoulder, the sharp edge of a cheekbone. His thumb strokes the skin there, feeling Isak shiver in response.

When Isak pulls back, Even can’t help moving in again, placing small kisses on his cupid’s bow, the corner of his mouth, the pout of his bottom lip. The only reason he stops is that Isak’s smile gets too big to ignore, and he has to lean back to see it properly, trace the edge of it with a careful fingertip.

“That was rude,” Even mumbles, making Isak let out a breathy giggle. “I’m not stupid.”

“You are a little bit,” Isak says quietly, a hand coming up to comb through Even’s hair, carefully sorting out the kinks. “It’s okay. I like you anyway.”

Even can’t quite handle the warmth spreading through his body, has to close his eyes and take a deep breath to get the rush of blood in his ears to quiet down a little. Isak nudges his cheek a little, making Even open up and look at him.

They stand staring at each other for a moment, Even caught up in how Isak’s eyes look softer in the darkening light, the feel of Isak’s skin underneath the tip of his fingers. He absentmindedly brings a hand to stroke over Isak’s pulse point, imagining a world where he could see it speed up, get visual proof that Isak is as affected by him as he is by Isak, that this is mutual, that this is happening.

He wishes he wouldn’t have to ask, but if he doesn’t do it now, his brain will never stop doubting what Isak’s answer will be.

”Do you really like me?” The words are quiet but they carry throughout the room, echoing against the walls in all their desperation.

Isak moves impossibly closer, a careful hand coming up to brush against Even’s cheek. “Yes,” he says.

It’s so typically Isak that Even smiles hopelessly, helplessly. He doesn’t need grand love declarations if this is the alternative.

Isak clears his throat. “And are you sure- I mean, like, it’s me,” Isak says, his fingers restless next to Even’s. “I’m not... anyone else.”

Guilt floods him, threatens to overtake him but Even fights it, doesn’t have time for it.

He intertwines their fingers instead, sliding his own into place in-between Isak’s. Isak ducks his head to look at their hands but Even doesn't, instead leaning in to place a kiss on top of Isak’s curls, breathing him in.

“It’s you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing the end! as always, sending all the love to everyone reading, commenting and leaving kudos as well as my beta bae [tess](http://modertheresa.tumblr.com)
> 
> [here is my tumblr](http://icelandcurry.tumblr.com) and [here is the post for this chapter](http://icelandcurry.tumblr.com/post/163057375032/a-mental-archive-of-love-unwanted-chapter-8)


	9. small things, big things and everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miracles happen in the most average of moments.

Even’s sitting on his bed, listening to the sound of Isak rummaging around the kitchen. It’s been a few minutes since they moved away from each other, Isak only having the time to give him a light kiss on the cheek before Even made up a terrible excuse to leave Isak’s room and disappear into his own.

He needs to sort his head out a little before things go any further. He doesn’t doubt that Isak likes him, Isak would never lie about that, and he doesn’t doubt that they could work well together, because they have been ever since they met. It’s more about wrapping his head around this being an actual possibility, that he can actually do this without terrible repercussions. 

He can be with Isak. Isak can be with him. And no one will leave because of it, no one will shut him out, no one will stop being his friend. No one will hate him.

He digs up his phone from his pocket, struggling to get it out. There are a few messages from Mikael and one from Linn, but none from the rest of the guys, which means Mikael hasn’t told them anything. There’s warmth spreading through him at the realization and he’s glad he can still have that, despite all the romantic attachment being gone.

He opens a chat, types in a new message. He feels slightly ridiculous in sending it, so he does it quickly, before he can back out.

_I’m freaking out but I don’t want to be_

The writing bubble immediately appears. _want me to come in there?_

_Yes_

A knock on his door seconds later, Isak steps inside without waiting for permission.

“Hi,” Even says.

Isak shuts the door behind him. “Hello.”

“I don’t really know what’s making me…” Even waves his hand around. “You know.”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Is it going to be worse if I sit next to you?”

“No,” Even says, “Definitely not.”

He straightens out the duvet slightly, pats it down so there’s a nice little dip next to him. Isak gives him an amused look but sits down without a comment.

“Can I, um, hand?” Even says, feeling a blush rise but powers through, holding out his hand in the space between them.

Isak puts his hand in Even’s without a second of hesitation. There’s a tiny shiver going down Even’s spine, and he can feel something in his core relax as he traces a thumb over Isak’s skin.

“I’m need to go and buy a new lamp for the living room,” Isak says, his voice calm and quiet. He looks so perfectly at ease, sitting on Even’s bed and holding his hand, Even can’t quite remember what he was worried about.

“To replace the one Magnus broke the other day?” Even asks. He can feel the calm settle in, the heavy thoughts lifting.

“Yeah. Probably should have known that him and a basketball was a bad indoor combination,” Isak says.

“He did his best,” Even says diplomatically.

“That’s not very encouraging,” Isak says. “It would be better if that was his worse.”

“True,” Even says, half-forgetting what they’re talking about when Isak turns their hands, letting their fingers intertwine.

“Okay?” Isak asks, sounding a little nervous.

“Yeah,” Even says. “You have nice hands.”

Isak ducks his head, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Even lean in closer, allowing himself to stay there. “Would you maybe want to sleep in here? With me. I’d also… be here.”

He hoped this particular brand of awkwardness would disappear when coming clean about his feelings. Apparently, there’s still some way to go.

“Really? Um, yeah. Okay.” Isak says, his voice breaking a little. He clears his throat. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Awesome,” Even smiles, reaching over to catch a wayward curl of Isak’s, tucking it behind his ear. “I don’t snore, in case you were worried.”

“We share a wall, I think I’d know if you did,” Isak says. He leans into the touch, a soft sigh escaping him when Even strokes over his cheek, touching Isak’s bottom lip with his thumb. “I need to brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” Even says. “I’ll join you.”

 

They share the space in front of the bathroom sink, making faces at each other in the mirror. Even pokes a finger in Isak’s side, startling a laugh out of him, making him spray toothpaste all over the blank surface.

“Look at what you did,” Isak says, leaning down to spit out the rest of the toothpaste.

“Me? I’m not the one unable to control my mouth,” Even says. He rinses his mouth, Isak’s raised eyebrows meeting him when he looks back up.

“Oh really? You think you can control your mouth better than me?” Isak says.

“Yup,” Even says, leaning a hand on the counter on each side of Isak’s waist, effectively boxing him in. There’s a constant state of elation going through him at the ease of it, how he can actually be this close without an explanation, a made up reason. “That’s why I’m a better kisser than you.”

“Huh? What the fuck are you on about?” Isak says, his voice sliding into falsetto. “You can’t do the things I can do.”

Even leans in, places a kiss on Isak’s cheek, another one on his temple. “Prove it,” he whispers right into Isak’s ear, feeling him shiver.

“Fine,” Isak says stubbornly, sliding a hand up in Even’s hair, twisting his head around to capture his lips.

“No hands,” Even says, catching Isak’s in his own, pushing them down on the counter. “That’s cheating.”

He’s pressed close enough to feel a tremor go through Isak’s body, his hands tightly grasping Even’s. Even smiles as he drags his nose up Isak’s cheek, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Isak turns his head, seeking Even’s lips. Even obliges, pressing their mouths together. It starts out timid, but all caution flies out the window when Isak opens up and flits his tongue over Even’s bottom lip. Even groans and moves in closer, desperate to deepen the kiss, to feel Isak respond.

Isak tilts his head, slowly dragging the tip of his tongue along the roof of Even’s mouth, moaning a little when Even does the same. Even pulls away to place kisses on the corner of Isak’s mouth, the top of his cupid’s bow, his bottom lip. Isak whines a little and Even quiets him with a kiss, letting their lips slowly brush against each other.

It calms down after that and, even before Even’s heart stops trying to beat out of his chest, their kisses growing languid. Even can’t help his smile when Isak nuzzles his cheek, letting his lips rest a breath away from Even’s jaw.

“I like you so much,” Isak whispers, his voice hitching.

Even can feel the last tension leave his shoulders, his chest loosening, getting rid of the final monster feeding off of his insecurity. It’ll be back, he’s pretty sure, but for now, there’s nothing but comfort.

He lets go of Isak’s hands to cup his face, thumbs mapping out his cheekbones, leaning down for a soft kiss. “You’re my favourite person,” Even says quietly. “Out of all the people, you’re my best one.”

Isak looks a little disbelieving but he doesn’t argue, just leans into Even’s touch and breathes out quietly, carefully.

 

There an awkward moment when they get ready for bed, Isak carelessly throwing his shirt off before freezing when he turns to a bed that’s not his own and is met with Even’s shaking hands and overall overwhelmed persona. 

“Sorry,” Isak mutters.

“I don’t think that’s something you should apologize for,” Even says weakly.

He keeps his own shirt on as he lies down, trying his best to seem unaffected. It’s not like he’s a blushing virgin but it feels so big, this allowance to even touch Isak, he’d probably just implode from doing anything more than kiss.

Thankfully, Isak seems to mirror his feelings as he slips under the covers quickly enough, covering himself up. He doesn’t put his shirt back on though.

Even’s lying on his back, keeping very still. The lamp is still on.

“Do you want me to turn off the light?” Isak asks.

“Sure,” Even says.

Isak turns off the lamp, lies back down. Even can feel him move around a little, trying to find a more comfortable position. Eventually, he finds it.

It’s very quiet.

“Isak?” Even says, not really knowing what to do with his hands. He ends up folding them on top of his stomach, much like a polite pensioner would do. There is so much he’d like to say, so he just starts with the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m sorry if I gave you bad advice about Fredrik.”

“You didn’t,” Isak says, his pillow rustling a little as he turns his head. Even can’t know for sure, but he’s pretty certain the warm weight he can feel is Isak’s gaze on him. “Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Even says, a white lie. It does seem silly to hide the truth now though, so he continues, “I was a little biased.”

“Why?” Isak whispers, scooting a little closer. He’s almost touching Even’s elbow now, Even can see it light up at the prospect.

“I hate that guy,” Even says, his mouth a little too fast for his brain to keep up. To his great relief, Isak laughs.

“Really?”

“He wore chinos and an ironed shirt to a house party,” Even says.

“You have chinos too,” Isak says.

“Not red ones,” Even says, turning a little so that he’s looking at Isak. He can’t make out all Isak’s features in the darkness, but all the ones he can see are beautiful beyond belief.

“What, beige ones are somehow better?” Isak asks, smiling.

Even reaches out to trace that smile with his thumb. Isak presses a kiss to it and Even can feel everything inside him glow.

“You know what colour my trousers are?”

“Mhm.” Isak leans in a little, enough for Even’s hand to slide back to cover his ear. Even moves it down to lie against Isak’s neck, finding his pulse point underneath his palm. “I know all your clothes.”

“Because you like to steal them?” Even asks, distracted as he keeps count of Isak’s pulse, trying to get his own heart to match it.

Isak’s speeds up a little. “Because I like to look at you.” It comes out as a confession.

Even moves close enough for them to share a pillow, their legs intertwining. “I know all your clothes too,” he says. “Even the ones you’ve stolen from someone else.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Isak’s pulse is still speeding.

Even leans in, sliding their lips together. It’s quiet enough for him to hear the hitching of his own breath, the small whimpering noise coming from Isak. It’s so much he has to pull away, trace his lips across Isak’s face just to make sure it’s real.

“You’re in my bed,” he mumbles nonsensically, his lips founding a place against Isak’s forehead, his cheek. “I can’t believe you’re in my bed.”

An arm comes up to slide around his waist, tracing patterns in the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t believe you let me be here,” Isak whispers, his voice trembling a little.

Even breathes out, nudging Isak’s cheek with his nose to get him to tilt his head up.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” he whispers back, smiling when Isak huffs out a laugh. He kisses Isak again, a simple peck to taste the sound before it’s escaped into the darkness of the room.

A few seconds later, Isak hides a yawn into the crook of Even’s neck. Even tugs the duvet closer around them, tucking it to fit properly around Isak’s shoulders and back.

“You did that when you were manic, too,” Isak says quietly, unmoving.

“Yeah,” Even says, the memory only hurting a little. “I didn’t want you to be cold.”

Isak nods. He lingers a little before pulling back. “I never said sorry for pushing you.”

“Yes, you did,” Even says, frowning. “You said it two seconds after it happened.”

“Not properly though,” Isak says.

“You don’t have to.”

“Can I?” There’s something heavy in the words, enough to make Even drop his objection immediately.

“Okay.”

“I’m really sorry,” Isak says. “It was dumb and mean, and I should have checked that you weren’t hurt. You could have been and you probably wouldn’t tell me if you were, so I should have checked.”

He’s got one hand now clutching the back of Even’s shirt, the other caught between them, restlessly playing with a crease in the sheet. “You just took off into the street,” he says, his voice breaking.

Even didn’t think this would be an hour where his heart would be torn into pieces, but it seems to be out of his hands.

“And you were already half-way across before I even caught up, I just let you leave like a fucking idiot,” Isak says, the words melting into one another as his voice thickens. “You could have been run over so easily and I-“

“Isak,” Even says, tugging Isak in to rest against the crook of his neck again, hugging him tightly. “That was so stupid of me, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to apologize,” Isak says, muffled against Even’s skin.

“Can I?”

It takes a minute, but Isak nods. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you. But… I’m more sorry for not talking to you. After. I should have asked you if you were okay, like really asked you.” Even presses a kiss into Isak’s hair, feeling trembles go down Isak’s body and hating every single one of them. “I should have asked you over and over again and I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Isak sniffles, his breaths too loud and irregular for Even’s chest not to hurt. He keeps hugging him, placing kisses and apologies against his temple. Isak clutches him closer in response.

“I should have told you when you asked, but then it was all the Mikael stuff and I just couldn’t,” Isak says.

“It’s alright,” Even says. “It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Even doesn’t know how long it takes for Isak to stop shaking, but every moment is burned into his memory with a tinge of sadness he’s never known before. There’s also a stillness in it, a surety that only comes from him being at the exact place he’s supposed to, a calm in all the chaotic emotions.

 

Just before Isak falls asleep he says, “I’m sorry for ruining our first night.” 

It’s a knife in Even’s chest, and he can’t pull it out with words but he tries anyway. “You could never ruin anything,” he whispers, but it’s a foolish answer, nothing but empty noise.

Isak relaxes a little, enough for his arm to fall down to Even’s hip, his breaths evening out.

Even strokes Isak’s back carefully, keeping Isak as close and safe as he can. It has to be enough for now.

 

*

 

He wakes up to a hand softly carding through his hair. He’s smiling before he’s even opened his eyes. 

“Good morning,” Isak says, his morning voice one Even’s heard countless times before but never quite like now, not with this amount of warmth instilled into it.

He squints a little at the bright light. “Morning.”

“We forgot to shut the blinds,” Isak says.

It sounds like a common occurrence, like this is nothing out of the ordinary. Even, Isak and their constant inability to remember the blinds. Even allows himself to sink into a reality where that would be possible to have one, two, maybe even ten years down the line.

The fact that he can look up at Isak and still be in that same reality is, quite frankly, nothing short of a miracle.

“You’re still here,” he says, a ridiculous observation.

“Still here,” Isak says, smiling softly. The sunlight plays across his face, highlighting parts of it Even hasn’t had time to treasure yet. He looks ethereal where he lies with his naked chest and his borrowed pillow and his slightly greasy hair.

Everything good in the world has been collected, contained in a body lying so close to his own.

He reaches out to trace a finger down the slope of Isak’s nose, back up to his eyebrows, sketching the shape of his jaw into memory.

Their quiet reverie is interrupted much too soon by a knock on the door, followed by Linn’s voice. “Even?”

She sounds small.

Even looks at Isak, who frowns concernedly and nods.

“Yeah?”

She opens the door and comes in, showing no surprise or reaction at all to the sight of Isak in Even’s bed. “Can I talk to you?”

“Um…” Even would like to say no. He’d like to ask her to leave, to barricade the door when she goes and guard it with her life.

It’s quite possible Isak can read his thoughts going by the way he elbows Even sharply in the ribs. “I’ll go make some food, I’m starving,” Isak says. “You can hang out in here and I’ll call for you when it’s done.”

Isak stands up, stretching a little. His legs are like toothpicks sticking out of his boxers, and he stumbles a little as he starts walking out the door, still shirtless as he gives a little wave and an encouraging smile.

He’s only spent one night in Even’s bed, but it already feels wrong to be in it without him.

Even has to wrestle with himself to tear his eyes away, focusing on Linn instead, doing his best to get the image of Isak’s body out from the forefront of his mind. It helps that Isak is out the door before Even has the chance to steal another look at his knees. He’s got really good knees, his Isak has.

Linn closes the door. “I’m going to make an appointment.” She looks down on the floor, hugging herself across the stomach. “I… I almost haven’t gone to work for a couple of days now and I can’t not go.”

“Okay,” Even says carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I… I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she says.

Even aches for her. “Do you want me to sit next to you when you call them?”

She nods.

“Do you want to do it now?”

“Mhm.” She looks up, gestures towards the bed. “Is it alright for me to…?”

“Yeah, of course,” Even says, scooting over a little, immensely thankful that he’s still wearing his t-shirt and underwear.

Linn wrinkles her nose a little. “No, I mean, is there like, come on the sheets?”

There has never been quite so much blood rushing so quickly to Even’s cheeks before. “No! There’s not anything… we haven’t, you know, yet.”

“Really?” Linn asks. “Still? God you’re slow.”

He’s genuinely stumped for an answer. “Uh. Sorry?”

She sits down next to him. “I’m just saying, I get laid more than you and I don’t live with the guy.” She scrolling through her phone, pausing at a contact. “I have the number here.”

Even does his best to switch over to supportive friend mode, but it takes a moment for him to get there. “You ready?”

In response, she clicks on the name, calling them up. Even grabs her hand and holds onto it throughout the conversation.

 

By the time Even’s had breakfast and a shower, it’s time to leave the house for uni because, as ridiculous as it may seem, it’s still a regular weekday. He hesitates in the doorway, having to leave an hour earlier than Isak and not quite knowing how to say goodbye. 

He knows what he wants to do, it’s just a question of courage. They’re both fidgeting a little where they stand, Even with one hand on the door handle and Isak a few steps in front of him.

It’s difficult to be brave in broad daylight but Isak’s wearing Even’s shirt and that somehow makes it easier to finally reach out, tug Isak closer by help of the fabric.

“I like this shirt,” Even says. “It looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” Isak’s hand catches in the hem of Even’s jacket, rolling the fabric between two fingers.

Even nods.

Isak leans up, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of Even’s mouth.

“I’ll see you later,” Isak says.

Even floats half a metre above the ground all the way to uni. 

 

He’s caught up in various projects and lectures most of the morning, things only starting to calm down around lunchtime. He chooses to sit alone, taking both food and his notes on the upcoming seminar outside, despite the fact that most of his peers are reviewing them together.

He allows some quiet while eating, not doing anything other than enjoying his food and the view of the nearby buildings. All the people rushing by in the windows, the groups of students waiting outside a lecture hall, the cafeteria with its long queue and stressed employees, all are available for him to watch behind the safety of a curtain of silence.

Not until he’s finished his food does he pick up his phone. A few messages in the group chat, one from Linn saying she got a confirmation email about her appointment and one from Isak.

It’s a picture, Isak’s neck and the top of his chest the only thing visible. He’s still wearing Even’s shirt. _kidnapping this for the day_

_It’s not kidnapping if it wants to be there. Which it does._

The speech bubble is immediate. _how can you tell? do u have psychic abilities about cotton?_

_I do, yes. Very helpful when I’m shopping for clothes, I only buy the happy ones._

_haha, ok_

Even bites his lip while typing the next one, knowing that he might as well blow what little cool he has kept around Isak so far. _And that shirt is def happy. Anyone would be, being that close to you cause you smell really nice._

Even waits until the last possible minute to shove his phone in his pocket and concentrate on the discussion in class. The message remains unanswered.

Five minutes later, the phone buzzes.

_you smell nice too_

The little blue heart accompanying the message keeps him smiling for the rest of the hour.

 

He gets home a few hours later to soft music and two flatmates sprawled on the living room floor. 

He stands in the doorway for a moment, taking in the way Isak is speaking about the closing transfer window with animated gestures and Linn lying next to him, nodding along. 

“You do know that we have couches, right? It’s those big grey things next to you,” Even says.

Isak looks up, breaking into a smile. Even can’t breathe.

“It felt like a floor kind of afternoon,” Isak says, gesturing for Even to come and join them.

Even bends down to sit in between them, Linn scooting over to rest her head in his lap.

Isak’s pouting but is very obviously trying not to.

“Hi,” Even mouths down at him.

“Hello,” Isak mutters. He captures Even’s hand in his, looking a little placated when Even strokes a thumb across the back of it. “How was your day?”

He looks genuinely interested, tilting his head up to properly meet Even’s eyes. It’s a wonder Even doesn’t smother him with appreciative hugs, the weight of Linn’s head the only thing keeping him, at least somewhat, grounded.

“Good,” Even says. “How was your day?”

“Good,” Isak says, squeezing his hand.

Even nods at him, taking the chance to blow him a quick air-kiss before quickly turning to Linn, a little embarrassed by the ridiculous gesture. “Are you alright?” He asks Linn.

“Fine. Tired.”

“Okay. Do you want to lie down, maybe?”

Linn looks up at him, her eyes clearly judging.

“I mean, in like a bed,” Even corrects quickly. “Be more comfortable, maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Linn says, sounding exhausted by the mere thought of moving.

Even recognises that tone, having had it burned into his own vocal cords for weeks at a time. He gives a non-committal hum in reply and lets the subject go. He turns back to Isak, whose eyes are on their joint hands, but focuses up at Even when he feels Even’s gaze.

“What were you saying about the transfer window?” Even asks, knowing that Isak will understand.

“Well, it’s a mess really,” Isak begins. He continues to give solid, although highly biased, information about just how it works when football players are bought and sold by clubs Even doesn’t know anything about or has ever had an interest in learning about.

He’s not surprised when ten minutes later, he’s listened so intently he could probably hold up in a conversation with Mutta, which would be the ultimate test of his newfound knowledge.

 

Linn finds the strength to stand up a few minutes later, giving a half-hearted wave as she disappears down the corridor, a blanket as a cape trailing the floor behind her.

It’s just Even and Isak in the room now. They’re still holding hands.

“Do you want to lie down? In a bed, maybe?” Isak asks, a hint of teasing in his voice but not in his eyes. He looks calm, his wishes clear but his urgency covered up.

He’s letting Even choose, again. Isak should really know the answer by now.

“Yes, please.”

 

They go to Isak’s room, a mausoleum of wrinkly clothes and half-eaten chocolate bars. It’s Even’s favourite place.

Even’s phone goes off with a couple of messages, an anomaly when he’s turned off notifications from his group chat with the guys.

It’s turns out he's been added to a new chat, the sole members being himself, Magnus, Mahdi and Jonas. Even frowns a little as he reads through the thread of messages.

He looks up at Isak.

“What?” Isak asks, looking a little worried.

“Nothing,” Even says, trying for innocent but ruining it with a somewhat smug smile.

Isak looks at him, then at Even’s phone still vibrating with more incoming messages, back to Even. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything! It’s just… did you tell your friends that we, you know.”

“Hooked up?”

Even can feel himself recoil. “We didn’t hook up, that’s not what that was.”

Isak shrugs, moving closer to slide in under Even’s arm. “Technically, it was.”

“But not emotionally,” Even says resolutely, although faltering a little. “Right?”

Isak leans up to kiss his cheek. “Right. I’m sorry.” He bops their noses together. “And yeah, they know.”

“Oh.” Even looks down at his phone again, feeling a rush of happy nerves swoop into his chest.

He kissed Sonja for the first time at a party surrounded by all their friends and that, since his feelings for Mikael never led to anything, is still his only experience with starting a relationship.

He’s never been the person someone would tell their friends about, not until now. Isak has told people. Isak wants people to know.

“Hang on, how do you know that they know?” Isak asks, breaking Even’s train of thought.

“Well, apparently Magnus is really happy about it, so he messaged to tell me,” Even says, waving the phone in the air.

All colour drains from Isak’s face only to be replaced with a vibrant shade of pink seconds later. “He did not.”

“He absolutely did,” Even says. “He also wants me to send a picture of us, called it a celebration selfie.”

Isak groans. “I need to replace him.”

“No, you don’t,” Even says, leaning in to press a kiss to Isak’s cheek. He tastes like sunshine, every single time Even’s lips touch any part of him there’s a burst of light escaping. “It’s a nice thought.”

“You want to take a picture to send him?” Isak says incredulously. “What, do you want me to strip, show off a little?”

Even chokes on his tongue. “Um, that’s… well, just.”

“Alright, alright, sorry, don’t have a heart attack when we’ve just gotten together,” Isak laughs. “I’ll keep my shirt on.”

It’s a physical response more than anything, a rush of air suddenly loud in Even’s ears. He sinks a hand in Isak’s hair, leaning down to kiss him, hastily, deeply. Isak anchors a hand in Even’s hoodie, tugging him further down while answering the kiss.

“Say that again,” Even says as he comes up for air, effective working against his own wish as he catches Isak’s lips again, sinking into another kiss. They back slowly towards the bed, taking a moment to get rid of their hoodies before lying down.

They shift until Isak’s lying on top of Even, Isak squirming around a little to find the most comfortable position. Even would break all his ribs and reshape them if it would help.

“What, that I’ll keep my shirt on? That’s rude,” Isak says as he pulls away, his breaths coming quicker than before.

Isak’s got a hand in underneath Even’s shirt, his fingernails scratching a little against the skin as he maps out Even’s torso, stealing all his warmth. Even doesn’t mind, can’t even recognize anything but happiness anyway as they kiss again, Isak determined in keeping it simple, slow.

“No, the other thing,” Even says, combing a hand through Isak’s hair. “Please?”

“That we’re together?” Isak says, pressing the words against Even’s neck, kissing it into his shoulder. “We are.”

Even pulls away a little to look at Isak, his pulse loud in his ears. “It’s ridiculous how hot that is,” he says before kissing Isak again, coaxing his lips open carefully, stealing his breath.

“Glad to be of service,” Isak mumbles, a firm hand pressing down on Even’s chest as he lifts himself up into a better position, taking control of the kiss.

Even can feel his whole axis shift a little as Isak grinds down, feeling his smile against Even’s lips as Even moans. Even tentatively slides his hands down the long line of Isak’s back, a coward at the last minute as he stops right by the waistband of the tight jeans.

That’s all mute when Isak arches his back, making Even’s hand move down to his ass.

“It’s Monday,” Even says, panting in between kisses, “How the fuck does this happen on a Monday?”

Isak breaks away to laugh into Even’s neck, biting down on the skin there. “Should we make a schedule based on the days of the week?” he asks.

Even smiles, sneaking a hand up under Isak’s shirt, the other still carefully kneading his ass. “What would we do on Wednesdays?”

Isak kisses his way up to Even’s ear, burying his nose in the short hair behind it. “I don’t know, but it would be nothing compared to Fridays.”

Isak is pressed right up against him, but somehow Even still misses him, so he gently nudges Isak to twist around enough for Even to kiss him again. It’s so easy, them fitting together, and Even would be content with not leaving the flat, the room, the bed until he’s learned all the ways Isak moves, catalogued all the sounds he makes.

“Can I-“

The buzzer for the intercom goes off.

Even has never hated an inanimate object before, but this comes pretty close. He pulls back just enough to meet Isak’s gaze, finding ridiculous happiness in the annoyance displayed there. They both know Linn is not going to answer it.

“Did you hear something?” Even whispers. Isak frowns, opening his mouth to retort, but Even’s quicker in continuing. “Because I didn’t.”

Isak’s smile is lightning quick and his lips warm when they get back on Even’s. Even counts the seconds, knowing that they won’t get many of them.

Ten, eleven, twelve.

Another buzz, along with the faint sound of Even’s phone vibrating somewhere on the floor. 

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

Two buzzes.

Isak pulls away. Even mourns.

“No,” he says when Isak makes to get out of bed. “I’ll go.” He leans in again, unable to resist kissing every inch of Isak’s flushed face once more before getting up.

A kiss on his ear makes Isak giggle, pushing Even away a little, rolling off of him. “Go, so you can come back quicker.”

Even can’t fault his logic.

 

“Who is it?” He tries to keep the irritation out of his voice, but doesn’t do very well.

“It’s me!”

Even’s never been less enthusiastic about hearing Elias’ voice. Of course, Elias is not alone.

“I’m here too!” Mutta says. “And Yousef, say hi Yousef!”

“Hi Yousef,” Yousef says, voice dry as a bone.

“Come on, man,” Elias says. “Oi, Even, can we come up or what?”

As much as he’d like to spend the next decade alone with Isak, he doesn’t want to send his friends away. He’s never done it before, he’s not going to start now.

“Yeah, sure. Come on up,” he says.

Whoops and hollers ensue. Even smiles despite himself.

 

In the thirty seconds that it takes them to rush the stairs, Even doesn’t have time to do anything other than drag a hand through his hair and unlock the door. He throws a look over his shoulder, not knowing if this visit is just to borrow something, eat something or spend a few hours doing nothing. 

Probably best to get that figured out before letting Isak know he’s let three boys into the flat in the middle of a make out session.

“You look good,” Elias says as he catches sight of Even, pulling him into a hug. “Did you sleep?”

“I did, yeah,” Even says, squeezing Elias a little extra. “Really well, actually.”

“Good,” Elias says, pulling back to pinch his cheek. “You’re almost in colour now. Leaving that black and white aesthetic behind you.”

Even rolls his eyes, not having the time to respond before Mutta is over him, lifting him a few centimetres from the ground with his enthusiastic hug. “Hi, bro. I’ve missed you.”

“I talked to you yesterday,” Even says, laughing a little when Mutta scoffs.

“That was just over chat. Doesn’t count.”

“Alright. I missed you too, then,” Even says.

Mutta beams. “Of course you did.”

Yousef is standing back a little, frowning at his phone. “Hey, Even? Why is Mikael telling me it’s a terrible idea to be here and that we should all ‘leave if we have any decency’?”

Even blushes. “Um. Well. It’s just that-“ He gestures vaguely behind him, a hint that apparently all of them can read perfectly.

“Nooo?” Elias says, his voice suddenly closer to a whisper. “Did something happen?”

“Shit, really?” Yousef says quietly. He hits Mutta in the shoulder. “This is all your fault.”

“Ow. What did I do?” Mutta hisses, capturing Yousef’s wrist to protect himself from further damage.

“You were the one who wanted to come over without texting first,” Elias whispers, hitting Mutta’s other shoulder.

Even’s so fond of them he could cry.

“Hey!” Mutta says loudly before widening his eyes in regret. Elias covers Mutta’s mouth with his hand.

“Sch!”

“Sorry,” Mutta mumbles. “But- do you mind?” he asks Elias, who drops the hand with a warning glance. Mutta blows him a kiss before continuing, “We had to come over, we’re hungry and we all agreed none of us can make eggs like Even.”

“So we go to a café or something,” Yousef says. “No big deal.”

Both Mutta and Elias turn to Yousef with raised eyebrows.

“Go to a café for eggs? What are you, rich or something?” Elias says.

Before Yousef can reply, Even decides to take charge of the situation. “You do realize that I let you in, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Mutta says, frowning. “What the hell, man?”

Elias looks Even up and down. “Why would you let us in before you’d gotten laid?”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Yousef asks.

Even splutters. “What are you talking about? How could you possibly know that?”

Elias scoffs, looking rather offended. “You think we can’t tell? Look at the way you’re standing.”

Even looks down on his feet, then back up again. “I’m just standing here.”

“Bro, that’s the way you were standing until you were sixteen,” Elias says. “Before you got with Sonja.”

“Yeah, and then again for the last two years,” Mutta snickers.

Even feels like his neck is gonna catch on fire, it’s gone so red. Yousef comes to his rescue.

“They’re just being dramatic, you’re fine. It’s just this… energy, I guess.”

“Desperation, I think,” Elias says.

“Oh yeah, that’s probably it,” Yousef says, clapping Even on the back. “It’s all good though.”

Even holds up his hands, effectively halting the discussion. “Okay, I’m just going to forget this conversation ever happened and go make the eggs.”

“Are you trying to buy our silence with breakfast food for dinner?” Mutta asks, frowning a little.

“Would that work?” Even asks.

“One hundred percent,” Mutta says. “Lead the way.”

They get into the kitchen, Yousef trailing behind a little to type out a message. A few seconds later, he snorts. “Mikael’s coming over.”

“Awesome,” Mutta says. “I’ve missed him too.”

 

Even gets the eggs started and leave the guys with strict instructions not to let them burn. He checks to make sure they have another pack of eggs in the fridge before leaving the room, just in case.

“You have no faith in us,” Elias says.

“Can you blame him?” Yousef asks.

“Fair point,” Elias says and then, louder, aimed at Even’s retreating back. “I forgive you.”

“Thanks!” Even says, turning enough to throw a smile across his shoulder.

He has to take a few breaths before knocking on the bedroom door. Isak opens it a few seconds later.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” Even says.

“Is there any reason for the knocking?" Isak asks, his eyes flittering across Even’s face. "Cause I'm fine with you not knocking, but if you want some ground rules about privacy and stuff, that's fine. I'm okay with that."

That’s the least appealing suggestion Even’s ever heard.

“No, no. No.” He shakes his head for emphasis. “No.”

“Okay,” Isak says with a small smile.

“Just, hang on,” Even says, pushing Isak’s chest lightly. They back into the room, Even closing the door behind him. “Hello,” he says yet again.

“Hi,” Isak says, giggling a little. That’s really all it takes.

Even leans forward enough for Isak to kiss him, his chest once again tightening at the freedom of it. Isak immediately presses closer and Even regrets all his life choices when he has to pull back to say, “The guys are here.”

Isak blinks. “What guys? My guys?”

“No, my guys.”

“Your guys?” Isak asks. “Not my guys?”

“No,” Even says. “My guys.”

“Are you sure it’s not my guys? Cause it could be my guys. Doesn’t have to be your guys, could be my guys,” Isak says, giggling a little.

“No it’s my guys,” Even says, wanting to kiss him all over but by heroic effort manages to keep it going. “Not your guys, my guys.”

“Oh, so not-“

“Oh my god!” Mutta says, sounding much closer than he should. “ _Your guys_ can hear you, you know.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Isak’s shoulders are shaking, his head hidden in his hands so that his laughter will stay silent. Even can’t look away, feeling his blood turn carbonated without any of the bubbles bursting.

He pulls Isak closer, allowing him to hide against his chest. He turns towards the door. “Are you standing right outside the door, eavesdropping?”

“….no?”

There’s a rustle of feet from the hallway, a slight thump and then a muffled curse before silence comes back.

“I wish they were your guys,” Even mutters, kissing Isak’s temple as he starts laughing again.

 

They walk out into the kitchen to the sight of three very guilty-looking boys and the unpleasant smell of burnt food. Even just sighs and walks up to the fridge, pulling out the ingredients for yet another omelette.

“Sorry,” Elias says. “We did the dishes though!”

A quick look towards the sink shows their frying pan lying on the bottom, filled with water. Specks of egg float around on the surface.

“Thanks,” Even says drily.

“I was going to clean it properly,” Yousef says. “But I didn’t want to look through your stuff looking for the washing up liquid.”

“It’s alright,” Even says, waving it away. “I’ll just use the other one.”

There’s a fair bit of silence stretching out as he focuses on chopping the vegetables and he turns around to see why the air isn’t filled with voices.

Isak is standing next to the counter, looking a little nervous. Elias, Yousef and Mutta are standing on the other side of the room, having an intense conversation with nothing but eyebrows.

Even looks to Isak, gesturing towards his friends, shaking his head. Isak smiles, but it’s a little too fleeting to be meant.

“Guys,” Even says, making all three of them snap their heads towards him.

“Right, sorry,” Elias says. “We just didn’t know if, um, everyone knows everything.”

“Have you told Isak about, like, cause if we know something that we… shouldn’t,” Mutta fills in, “Then we don’t want to, you know.”

Even turns to Isak, an instinct in every conversation. “I have no idea what they’re talking about, do you?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a dick, Even.”

His name has never sounded better.

“Oh, this is good,” Elias says. “This is very good,” he says, nodding in approval.

Isak frowns a little, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Even here,” Mutta says, pointing towards Even. “Is a huge sap, like ridiculously-“

“Drunk in love,” Yousef adds.

Mutta fist bumps him. “Exactly, drunk in love all the way, so he needs someone a little different, someone who’s not like, über-sweet who can balance it out and not make it a total sap-fest.”

“I’m sweet,” Isak protests.

“Isak’s sweet!” Even says at the same time.

“Aw,” Mutta says. “That’s adorable.”

He walks over to Isak, hesitating a little. “I’m a little unsure if I can hug you, because you’re permanent now and I always hug the permanent members, but some people don’t like it.”

“Go for it,” Isak says, clapping Mutta on the back as he’s immediately drawn into a hug.

Elias follows with a bro-hug and Yousef claps hands with him.

Even has to turn back to the stove, both for the sake of the sizzling butter but also for the sake of a heart nearing to explode.

 

There’s no more quiet for the whole two hours it takes them to finish the food, have five rounds of Fifa and drink tremendous amounts of tea.

 

The buzzer goes off again as they’re about to decide on whether or not they’ve gotten hungry again and, if so, what they want to eat.

“It’s probably Mik,” Yousef says.

“Oh yeah, shouldn’t he be here hours ago?” Even asks, already halfway to the door. “Hello?”

“Hiii,” Mikael says.

“It’s open,” Even says, pressing the button twice for good measure.

He unlocks the door before going back to his spot between Yousef and Elias, Mutta having claimed the only open spot next to Isak on the other couch.

There’s been a few fleeting kisses in the kitchen while picking something up or refilling the kettle, but there’s something gnawing on Even at the thought of touching Isak in plain sight of others, an insecurity about it he hasn’t felt in a long time. He knew the limits before last night happened but they’re in some kind of emotional in-between right now, and Even doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the somewhat stable ground they’ve established.

At the minute tension now present in Isak’s posture, Mikael’s arrival probably won’t help sort out that particular problem. There’s no time to figure it out as the door is opening and Mikael’s hair comes into view.

He kicks off his shoes, catches himself and leans down to put them neatly on the shoe rack, before almost running over to the couch.

“Hello!” He lands right on top of Even, punching the breath out of him a little, before Mikael moves on to hug Mutta, Yousef and Elias. There’s no hesitation from Mikael’s part before pulling Isak in for a hug but over Mikael’s shoulder, Even can see Isak’s slightly strained smile.

It’s his fault.

He can’t do anything about it right now though, too obvious to pull Isak aside just after Mikael’s stepped into the room. He sends a smile to Isak, who does light up a little but not for nearly long enough.

Even tunes back into the conversation just in time to hear Mutta wax poetic about Even’s cooking.

“Why are you trying to convince me it’s good?” Mikael asks. “You don’t think I’ve had it?” He turns to Even. “Remember when we had that three course meal? That was awesome.”

“I’ve never had a three course!” Mutta says. “What’s so special about him, huh? Special treatment, that’s not fair.”

Isak sinks a little further back into the couch cushions. Even can’t stand it anymore, he doesn’t care about how it looks. “Um, Isak, can I…” He gestures towards his room. “Talk to you?”

Isak looks around at the others, nods. “Yeah, okay.”

He’s supremely grateful when there are no comments about it, the only reaction being Mikael looking a little guilty when Even passes him. Even claps him on the shoulder to reassure him before turning all his focus to Isak.

 

Even closes the door behind them, turning to Isak who has a bright smile on his face and his hands shoved down his trouser pockets. 

“So, what’s up?” He asks.

Even doesn’t really know how to handle it, this spectacular show of bravado. He doesn’t want Isak to feel like Even’s accusing him of something, but he also can’t let Isak carry around these reservations about Mikael any longer.

He starts slowly, trying to find his way as he walks. “Remember when I told you about being in love with Mikael?”

Isak nods curtly. “Yeah.”

Even takes a step closer, wanting to touch but keeping his hands to himself for now. “I thought, when I realized I had feelings for you, that Mikael was the reason for it. That it wasn’t real, just my brain making it up to get over him.”

Isak blinks frantically, his eyes a little watery. He looks small as he stands before him.

“But I don’t think that anymore, and I hope that you don’t think that either, because it’s not true.” There’s a lump of fear in Even’s throat when he reaches over to hold a hand just shy of touching Isak’s cheek, chest aching when Isak moves into the touch.

“Are you sure?” Isak asks, eyes fixed on the floor and Even is once again knocked down by his bravery.

“I’m sure.” He tentatively strokes his thumb against Isak’s cheek, feeling the warmth from Isak’s skin seep into his palm.

He’s always so warm.

Isak presses their lips together briefly, softly, more a reassurance than a kiss. Even gives him one in return.

“Can I say something?” Isak asks quietly.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I like it when you touch me,” Isak says, carefully slipping his hand in Even’s. “You don’t have to be so afraid of it.”

Even feels himself blush a little, a flood of embarrassment for being caught. “I’m sorry. It’s just- I’m not used to it.”

“To be allowed?” Isak asks softly.

Even nods. “It’s been a while.”

Isak is silent for a few seconds, his fingers interlaced with Even’s. Even would like to live like this for as long as he can possibly breathe.

“You know,” Isak says, determinedly looking just to the left of Even’s head. His hand is trembling a little. “I’ve been into you for so long, I can’t even remember when I wasn’t.” He clears his throat. “It’s, um. It’s a little pathetic, but-“

“No, it’s not,” Even says, taking a step forward so he can catch Isak’s chin, trying to coax him into looking up. He does. “It’s really not.”

“It really is.” Isak’s tone is sarcastic, but his smile is not. “Especially when I knew that you were into someone else, and I was just trying to fake being asleep on the couch so I could, like, touch you for a little longer.” Isak’s cheeks heat up slightly, a lovely shade of pink conquering the pale skin.

“You were faking?” Even asks, his surprise completely genuine. “What, every Sunday?”

“Little bit,” Isak says, squirming a little. “It was just really nice, being… close and stuff.”

Even can feel his heart expand to fit yet another little piece of Isak inside, his chest not even protesting at the added space. He leans in to catch Isak’s lips in a kiss, keeping it chaste but hard enough for Isak to know just how much the conversation is affecting him.

He pulls back just enough to meet Isak’s eye, a hand coming up to trace his bottom lip. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Sure,” Isak says, sounding rather breathless. Even knows the feeling.

“No more faking.”

A beat, then Isak’s smirking. “I don’t know, what if you just can’t get me there?”

Even almost chokes on his tongue, the laugh is so sudden. “Oh my god,” he says, curling a hand around Isak’s neck. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’ll take care of you too,” Isak says, his hands still not entirely steady but his voice level. “I will.”

“I know.”

Isak doesn’t reply right away but Even doesn’t mind, busy drinking in the slightly red tint on Isak’s lips, the way his hair has gotten a little wild from Even’s fingers.

“I want to be with you,” Even says quietly, making sure to catch Isak’s eye before continuing. “I always want to be with you.”

He can see the moment Isak makes the connection, his eyes briefly going to the closed door from which the voices and laughs from the living room are seeping in, before returning to Even’s.

Something inside Even settles when Isak leans in, gently resting their foreheads together. Isak’s eyes are closed but Even has to look, has to remember.

“I’m just a little scared about it, still,” Isak says haltingly.

Has to fix this. Has to make amends.

“I get that.” He reaches up to stroke Isak’s hair back, smooth over the messed up curls. “I’m sorry.”

Isak nods. “I know.”

“I’m going to ask them to leave,” Even says, holding up a hand when Isak is about to protest. “I promise you, they’re about to go and get falafel anyway.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

Even’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He picks it up, unlocks it and shows Isak the new text from Elias.

_we’re going to our falafel father to eat, you want to come or you want to continue cuddling?_

Isak laughs. “I vote for option number two,” He says.

“Same,” Even says, quickly typing out an answer and getting a few aubergines in return.

“We should go out and say goodbye,” Isak says, moving towards the door. Even plants his feet and holds on to Isak’s hand, effectively stopping him from getting too far. “Even.”

“Nope.”

“They’re your friends,” Isak says, tugging on Even’s hand to get him to move, adding, “I want them to like me.”

Even folds, as expected. “Fine. But I’m keeping your hand.”

Isak smiles, his ears gone a bit red. “I’m okay with that.”

 

Even gives one-armed hugs to all the guys, not even caring about the jabs he gets for refusing to let go of Isak. He locks the door behind them and turns to Isak. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Do you want to cook together? I’m pretty good at making quiches now, so I can probably help with whatever food you pick.”

Even kisses his hand. “Sure.”

 

They end up making a pretty mean batch of fajitas, Even taking a picture and sending it to his new group chat with Isak’s friends. He captions it _labour of love_ and fully accepts the mountains of mocking that follows. 

He can read their stamp of approval between the lines.

 

*

 

_me and Sana are taking over the living room_

Even smiles. _Is this a heads up so that all the #SCIENCE won’t scare me when I walk through the door?_

_…maybe. also, can you buy bread?_

He sends back a bread-emoji along with a thumbs up and three red hearts, because he can do that now. After a few seconds, he gets four hearts back.

Even spends a few extra minutes in the shop, going through all the assortments of cheese since he knows they’re running out and inspecting a variety of apples to pick out the best ones. He even throws in a few chocolate bars and a bag of sour Haribos, since he knows Isak likes them.

They’ve gradually started to join their two shelves in the fridge together, no longer shopping for just their own meals when they’re in the store. Dinners are still shared affairs with Linn and Even wouldn’t want to change that for the world, but making breakfast with bread he bought and eggs that Isak came home with makes every morning a little bit brighter.

Isak is still adamant that he’s the best at flipping pancakes, and he’s been very keen on teaching Even all the tricks. Even has been very keen on letting him, enjoying the fleeting touches and celebratory kisses that comes with the lessons.

 

There’s a few loud voices coming from inside when Even unlocks the door. They don’t sound angry, but stubborn enough for Even to get ready to play mediator as he enters the living room. 

“It’s not even close to- Hi, babe!” Isak says. “Sorry for the mess.” He gestures to the plethora of textbooks and pencils mixed with two laptops and several empty cups strewn over the table and floor.

“No worries,” Even says, leaning down to kiss Isak’s hair before smiling at Sana. “Hi Sana, how are you?”

“Good,” She says, smiling back. “Would be better if Isak understood the basic principals of human biology but, you know. You can’t have everything.”

Isak groans. “I understand the principals, it’s just that you’re wrong about some of them.”

“Excuse me?” Sana drills her eyes into Isak’s. “It’s not my fault they’ve clearly misquoted Darwin.”

“They haven’t misquoted him, Sana! That’s what he wrote!” Isak throws his hands up, one of them being captured by Even.

“Do you want anything, snack or… fruit, maybe? Another cup of tea?” Even says, looking between them.

Sana narrows her eyes at him. “We’re not fighting because we’re hungry.”

“Of course not,” Even says. “But I’m starving, so I’ll just fix something real quick.”

“Okay,” Sana says, still giving him a warning glance.

“Okay,” Even says brightly, giving a kiss to Isak’s cheek before moving out of the room.

He allows their voices to become a soothing backdrop as he potters around the kitchen, putting the kettle on and slicing up a fair amount of fruit. He drops a plate off for each of them in the middle of yet another heated discussion, smiling at Isak before going back to the kitchen and sitting down with his own homework.

 

Thirty minutes later, Sana comes in with an empty plate in her hand. “Thanks.” 

“No problem,” he says, stretching a little. “How’s it going in there?”

“A little better,” Sana says reluctantly. She does answer Even’s smile with one of her own though, so he figures she’s not really mad.

“Good, I’m glad. Can’t have you killing each other in the living room.”

Sana drops her plate off in the sink, leaning back against the counter. “Isak’s in the bathroom.”

“Um-“

“So I just wanted to say that I like you,” Sana says. “But Isak is, like, important.”

Even doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet. Probably best, since Sana isn’t finished.

“So, you know. Be careful with him,” She says, looking as if she’s unsure whether or not she should say the words out loud. “And don’t tell him about this,” she adds, pointing at him with narrowed eyes.

Even smiles, recognising her protective instincts towards Isak and all the ways they’re in kinship with his own. “I won’t.”

“Alright, good.” Sana purses her lips. “He is wrong about Darwin, though.”

Even laughs.

 

*

 

_So I heard a scandalous rumour_

Even smiles, propping himself up a little to get his hands free to answer. Isak protest sleepily but rearranges himself easily enough, keeping Even close while still being able to watch the telly.

Even leans down to kiss his cheek, nuzzle his temple before going back to his phone. _Oh really? What might that be?_

_Someone took Isak’s flower_

Even can’t help but snort. Isak nudges him a little, smiling up at him. “What?”

Even shows him the screen and Isak rolls his eyes. “Ugh. Let me,” he says, grabbing for the phone.

“Absolutely not,” Even says, getting his hands under Isak’s shirt, tickling him into submission.

“Fine, fine,” Isak says, still giggling as he surrenders. “You better tell him off, though.”

“Of course,” Even says.

_Isak says hi!_

“Even!”

“He probably just wants to congratulate us,” Even says, laughing a little at Isak’s petulant pout.

“It’s Eskild,” Isak says drily. “I doubt it’ll be that innocent.”

“He’s nice,” Even says.

“He’s also dramatic as hell.” Isak doesn’t appreciate the pointed look Even throws him, if the finger poking slightly painfully into his ribs is any indication.

“Ow. Okay, alright, you’re not dramatic,” Even says, squirming to avoid getting poked again.

“Thank you,” Isak says politely. “Now please tell him that he should mind his own business.”

“Isn’t this kind of his business?” Even asks, combing Isak’s hair back from his face. “He’s your friend, right?”

Isak sighs. “I guess.”

Even leans down to give Isak a kiss on the forehead before typing back. _Sorry you heard it through the rumour mill. Wanted to tell you myself._

Eskild is quick to respond. _I nagged Linn until she gave in, so technically made the mill myself but yes, I should be informed of these things immediately in the future_

And then, _ofc there shouldn’t be any more things like this bc that would mean that you & isak isn’t a thing anymore but that you're having a thing with someone else_

Even smiles. _And that’s not okay?_

_no._

_I agree._

Eskild sends back a thumbs up and eight eye-emojis, which Even takes to mean that he’s approving but will also be watching out for Isak. Even is more than okay with that.

Even locks his phone and burrows closer to Isak. “What did I miss?”

Isak frowns at the screen. “I think someone died.”

“Seriously?” Even looks from the TV to Isak and back again. “Shit.”

“I wasn’t really paying attention, but it seems like it.” Isak stretches a little, Even’s hand automatically sneaking down to stroke the exposed skin where his t-shirt rides up.

They keep watching even though the plot of the whole episode has gone over their heads. The show isn’t the point, anyway.

 

*

 

Even has a good couple of days, getting to do more analytical work in uni and finding it a lot more interesting than he used to. It helps to have a body free from unexpressed emotions and a soul free from the weight of words unsaid.

The fact that he can now come through the door to a kiss hello and a hug is just icing on the cake. He would probably have felt lighter after his confession even if Isak hadn’t wanted to be with him too, but this version of reality is so obviously better, he doesn’t spend too much time thinking about that.

“Do you want to go out tomorrow?” Isak asks as they sit down for dinner.

“I can’t,” Linn says, building a mountain of mash before demolishing it and shovelling it in her mouth. “I’m getting laid.”

“Nice,” Even says. “I’m in, though. What do you have planned?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Mahdi has found some new underground club and it’s all he’s been talking about all week. Apparently, no one knows it’s there, which doesn’t make sense since if that was true, no one would be there.”

“That’s some good logic right there,” Even says, gesturing with his fork. “Did you tell him that?”

“I did.”

“But he didn’t agree?”

“He did not.” Isak hands over the salt just as Even’s about to reach for it. “In the end, I just agreed to get him to stop glaring at me.”

Even nods sagely. “Good call. Well, at least there’ll be a few people there tomorrow.”

“Counts for something, I guess,” Isak says. “This mash is great, by the way.”

“You’re only saying that because you made it,” Linn says.

“Well, I’m excellent, Linn, haven’t you heard?” Isak says, winking at her.

She can only barely supress a smile. “You can at least say something good about the meatballs too.”

Isak pierces one on his fork, holds it up as a token of eternal victory. “Look at how it’s holding together. They’re so nice, thank you Linn.”

“You’re welcome.”

Even sits back, content in just watching them live in front of him. “Remember when I moved in, and none of you wanted to cook?”

Linn nods. “And then Isak started to learn cause he wanted to impress you. Took him a while, didn’t it?”

“No, he didn’t,” Even says, looking over at Isak for confirmation.

Isak is extremely busy cutting up his last meatball. Linn gives Even a look that is pretty explicit in its message to declare him an idiot.

“Oh.” Even can’t help a pleased smile, trying to not look too smug. “Um, well, that… I didn’t know that.”

Isak studiously avoids looking at him, muttering to his plate. “I already knew how to make pancakes, so it's not like I was totally new to it or anything.”

“And the tea?” Even asks softly.

Isak blushes. “You were down, and I didn’t want to make it the wrong way. It’s your favourite.”

“You’re my favourite,” Even says promptly.

Linn groans. “I need to move.”

“No, you don’t,” Isak says. “You’re not allowed to leave, we need someone to keep this flat together.”

“That’s Even,” Linn says dismissively.

“Nope, it’s you,” Isak says carelessly, now deeply concentrated on scraping the last of the mash out of the pan and get it on his plate. He doesn’t even notice Linn’s shock but Even does.

Even always thinks he’s reached the limit of his affection for Isak, but then he does things like this, casually confirming Linn’s worth to him in such an off-hand way that it can’t be anything but the truth. Even is immediate in his cataloguing of Linn’s reaction to Isak’s words but Isak doesn’t. He’s not even looking for it.

“Okay,” Linn says, her voice a little wobbly. “I’ll stay, then.”

“Good!” Isak says, smiling up at her. There’s a tiny fleck of potato stuck in the corner of his mouth and Even thinks he’s going to evaporate from the face of the earth if he feels even one more ounce of fondness.

He reaches over to catch Isak’s hand in his, Isak happily continuing to eat one-handed. Even hasn’t even told him yet, but he’s pretty sure his love is evident enough for everyone to see.

It doesn’t scare him anymore.

 

He cuddles closer than usual that night, making sure that Isak’s fully covered by the duvet and that he’s got his favourite pillow to sleep on. 

“Are you okay?” Isak asks, his voice already raspy with sleep.

“Yeah,” Even says, sneaking an arm around him. “More than.”

He falls asleep like that, pressed up against the entirety of his heart.

 

*

 

The club is absolutely packed, hidden away in the cellar of a non-descript apartment complex in the outskirts of town.

Mahdi throws a pointed look at Isak, who sighs. “They couldn’t have stayed home just one night?” He mutters, watching the people come and go with a little resentment.

Even snorts. “Come on, I’ll buy you a beer.”

Isak flutters his eyelashes a little, smiling. “Aw, really? You trying to get me drunk?”

Even smiles back and swings an arm around Isak’s shoulders, giving a wave to the guys before he steers them in the direction of the makeshift bar. The mix of smells and sounds is a little dazing, but Isak is a steady presence at his side, keeping him grounded in the moment.

They get to the front, leaving their drinks order to the guy in dungarees and neon snapback before Isak leans back against him, back pressed to Even’s chest.

Even sings along to the song blasting from the speakers, making Isak giggle as he switches the words to be about the gin and tonic he’s about to drink. Even can feel the vibrations of Isak’s laughter against his chest and he basks in it, giving their bartender an impromptu smile which he returns with the easiness booze brings.

Nothing will go wrong tonight.

 

Even comes back from the bathroom to find Jonas and Magnus in the middle of a very complicated, homemade version of Blackjack using a deck of cards they probably found in one of the boxes stacked up against the walls.

“Even! Come help me out,” Magnus says, frowning as he eyes his cards. “I need five more, right?”

He’s got two eights and a joker.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to use that one,” Even says, pointing at the joker.

“Seriously?” Magnus asks, looking up at him surprised. “I thought that counted as a one.”

“That’s the ace, I think.”

Magnus squints at the card. “Is this not an ace?”

Even laughs, letting his eyes sweep over the room, trying to find Isak in the crowd. He finds him up against a wall with a guy pressed right next to him. They’re talking, Isak shaking his head but smiling. He looks happy, relaxed.

All of Even’s insecurities make a quiet comeback.

He turns away quickly, busying himself with helping Jonas find the second joker in the deck, watching Jonas throw it into the dancing crowd when he finds it. It lands in the drink of a girl in a flannel shirt, who cheers and kisses it before sticking it in her back pocket.

He doesn’t look towards Isak. They haven’t talked about being exclusive, haven’t even had a proper relationship talk yet, so Even can’t fault Isak for the choices he makes, if he makes them.

It burns him, but he can’t.

The thing is, Even would be alright with it. He would make himself alright with it, because it’s still so much better than the alternative of being on the outside.

He can handle an open relationship.

He can. He will.

He can’t.

Jonas is talking, Magnus laughing along to his story. Even is standing quietly next to them, feeling younger than everyone in the room and twice as stupid. Isak is everything and Even should never have been naïve enough to think he’d be the only one to notice. He shouldn’t have been that selfish.

He doesn’t look towards Isak.

Magnus is dancing, pulling ridiculous moves next to him. Jonas is still talking. Even’s mouth is smiling.

The song changes.

He doesn’t look towards Isak. He’s standing, stays standing. Tries to breathe.

 

It takes another song for Isak to reappear, his hair a little matted in the back from sweat, his hand warm as it interlocks with Even’s. “Hi,” he says.

Even can’t say anything, so he gives Isak’s hand a belated squeeze and prays Isak won’t notice the hesitation in the touch.

No such luck. Isak looks up at him, eyes searching. Even must have let something in his expression slip, because Isak starts pulling him out of the room before Even can come up with an excuse not to go.

 

It’s cold, their t-shirts doing nothing to protect them from the wind and their coats stupidly left inside. They stand opposite one another in the chilly night, Isak trying to catch Even’s eye but not succeeding.

Isak deflates after a minute, shrinking in on himself. Even can’t take it, he has to save this, whatever it is Isak thinks they have. He’ll fake being alright with sharing if it means that Isak will be happy.

“Pretty cool place,” he says, the words beige in his mouth. “I’m glad Mahdi found it, it’s such a great-“

“Even.”

“Yeah?” He keeps smiling, keeps smiling, keeps smiling. Can’t lose Isak now.

“Do you not want to do this, go out together and stuff?” Isak says. He sounds too small for Even’s liking. “Cause we don’t have to. We could have just stayed home, I wouldn’t have minded.”

“What do you mean?” Even steps a little closer so that no words will be lost in the space between them. The wind must have already stolen some of them, because what Isak is saying and Even is thinking doesn’t match.

“You’re not having fun,” Isak says. “I don’t want you to be here just because you feel like you have to.”

Even can feel Isak shiver in the cold. A sudden tiredness washes over him. He thought he was done with all the doubt, but it’s proven itself to be a stubborn companion.

“It’s not that, I like hanging out with you, you know that. I’m just… a little unsure what you want? For us, I mean. Like, what do you want us to be?” The forwardness of the question surprises even himself.

“Each others,” Isak says simply. He frowns, caution creeping into his eyes. “Do you… not want that?”

Even plays it back in his head. Replays it. Takes it in.

A ridiculously embarrassing wave of emotion washes over him, making the whole world sepia-tinted, Isak the only source of colour in the washed out surroundings.

He steps closer, slides a hand up to lightly cup Isak’s cheek. Isak blinks up at him. “I’m going to be stupid, from time to time,” Even says.

A soft quirk on Isak’s lips. “I’m okay with that.”

“And I might jump to conclusions.” Better to get it all out there. “Not very good with sharing either.”

Isak lets go of Even’s hand only to wind both arms around him, locking them together. “There was a girl outside when we got here and I might have… death stared her a little.”

Even laughs, feeling Isak’s words and warmth chase away the insecurity of his thoughts. “Why?”

“She pointed you out to her friends,” Isak says. “And then they all giggled and she, like, tossed her hair.”

“Wow. Thank you for protecting me,” Even says. He presses a kiss to Isak’s temple, another to his cheek. “I got jealous at that guy you were talking to,” he confesses.

“Oh.” Isak hugs him a little tighter, biting his lip, a nervous gesture Even wants to soothe. “What, um. What did you think was going to happen?”

Even weighs his words, phrasing and rephrasing his insecurities so as to not scare Isak away. “I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about that kind of stuff, so.”

“You thought I was going to hook up with him?” Isak pulls away.

“I think that I wouldn’t be in the right to stop you if you wanted to,” Even says.

Isak looks at him. Looks away. Takes a step back.

“I said that we’re together and you agreed.” Isak shoves his hands in his pockets, hiding them from sight. “I thought that meant we wouldn’t be with other people.”

Even wishes he wouldn't, but he does this, every time. He has something beautiful and then he cheats himself out of keeping it. “I told you I get stupid sometimes,” Even says, knowing his tone is way too flippant the moment the words come back to him.

“That’s not an excuse, Even,” Isak says, his voice carrying an edge now. “I can’t- you can’t just walk around thinking I’m going to hook up with every guy I talk to, that’s not fair.”

“I know, I-“

“I would never cheat on you,” Isak says. “Ever. And I would never think that of you, either.”

He sinks down on the sidewalk, hugging his knees to his chest. “Fuck.”

Even has to take a second to blink away the tears building up, knowing that he can’t get the words out if he doesn’t get rid of those first. He tentatively sits down next to Isak, careful to keep some space between them for Isak to breathe.

“It was wrong of me,” Even says. “I’m sorry.”

Isak nods. He drags a hand across his face. “I just- have you been thinking that the whole time?”

“No!” Even says, turning towards Isak. “I haven’t, I promise. It’s just that this is the first time we’ve been out together and I realized that we’ve not talked about, like, our relationship yet, not really, and I didn’t know what the boundaries are.”

“Okay,” Isak says and miraculously, he looks like he believes Even. “We should talk about it.”

A guy in a well-cut suit jacket and jeans comes out to puke in the bushes across the street. The sounds of his retching are the only ones filling the air.

When the guy is safely back inside, Even clears his throat. “I want to be your boyfriend, and I want us to be exclusive,” he says, his voice soft and steady.

Isak looks at him, his eyes calmer than before. He reaches for Even's hand. “I want to be your boyfriend, and I want us to be exclusive.”

Even smiles, not even bothered that he has to blink away tears again. Isak moves closer, putting a hand on Even’s leg, leaning in. His lips are a little chilled from the outside air but still enough to warm Even up, inside and out. Even can’t help but deepen the kiss, tilting Isak’s head a little to taste him a little easier. Isak’s reactions are a little slowed down from the drinks he’s had, making it lazier than usual.

“Can we please go kiss inside?” Isak asks, pulling away for the minority of a second. “I’m cold.”

Even can’t deny him anything.

 

As they’re trying to listen to Mahdi’s confusing directions on how to get to the bus a few hours later, the whole group including a few new people with bright tattoos and their arms locked around Jonas, Even takes the opportunity to slip a hand in Isak’s back pocket. 

The sheer possessiveness of it all should be over the top, but it’s quite possibly the hottest thing Even has ever done, walking down a dark Oslo street with Isak’s arm around his waist.

He belongs with him. Isak wants him to belong right there with him.

 

*

 

It’s been raining the entire morning, but Elias refuses to allow them to cancel their plans, so they all dutifully show up to the football field ready to get drenched in mud.

It takes a while for them to get started, all of them very capable of their very own version of finagling but, eventually, they’re out on the field.

“You have to pass the ball, Mutta,” Yousef says the third time Mutta’s scored. “You’re the goalie.”

“And I’m the goal maker,” Mutta says. “It’s a whole new brand of player. I’m going to be worth millions one day.”

“Great,” Adam says. “Then you can pay me back all the money you owe me for food.”

Elias steals the ball. Even starts chasing him, but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I’ve paid you back!” Mutta exclaims, getting ready for Elias’s shot.

“In money?” Adam asks, panting as he’s running to reach Elias but being caught by Mikael, held hostage by a pair of arms around his waist.

“In love!” Mutta says, just as the ball whizzes past him. Elias cheers. The rest of them lets him.

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” Adam says, having given up and is now leaning back against Mikael.

“It’s football, what are you talking about?” Elias asks, wiping sweat of his forehead with his sleeve.

“Even,” Adam says. “You’re cool with us all being here just to get the details about your boyfriend, right?”

Even thinks about it. “More okay than being here for football in the mud.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Mikael says, who in no way has been contributing to the conversation. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Yousef said we needed to ease into it, but I said that was bullshit.”

Elias looks around, disbelieving. “Are you seriously saying I’m the only one who thought we were gonna play for real? We could have done this inside, you know.”

“Great!” Adam says. “Let’s do that, then.”

Even laughs at the sheer disbelief on Elias’s face.

Within five minutes, they’ve all gathered their things and start moving towards Elias’ house.

 

“Hang on,” Elias says as they’re about to walk through the door. “You can’t come in like this." 

“That’s rude,” Mutta says.

“Look at your shoes,” Elias says, pointing.

They all look at their shoes.

Caked in mud and leading up to shins also flecked with mud, all of them look more like they’ve been wrestling amongst themselves rather than with a football.

“Maybe we should sit on the swings,” Yousef suggests.

“Dibs,” Mikael says, sprinting round the house.

“Every time,” Yousef mutters.

“Okay, I'll start. Are you proper official now and everything?” Adam asks once they’ve settled down.

Even leans down to take a bug out of Mutta’s hair, running his fingers through it. “Pretty much, yeah. We’ve, um, been sleeping in the same bed and stuff, so. And he lets me hold his hand in public.”

“You let him hold your hand in public too, though, right?” Elias asks, a kind but pointed look on his face.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Elias says.

Adam nods. “That’s a good point.” He fist bumps Elias. “Shouldn’t feel like he’s allowing you to do stuff, you know. If you’re together, then you’re together.”

“It’s not like that,” Even says, but he’s interrupted before he can continue.

“We know it’s not,” Elias says, “We’re just trying to convince your brain of that, too.”

Even looks at him, a little stunned.

“So you just straight up told him you like him?” Mutta asks, pulling Even’s focus back to him.

“Pretty much.” Even’s still stuck on Elias’ words, barely noticing Mutta’s hand held out for a high-five. He gives it a beat too late.

“That’s awesome, bro. That takes some proper bravery,” Mutta says. “Just ask Adam.”

“I’m going to tell her,” Adam says, throwing a bit of grass on Mutta. “I’m just working up to it.”

“Been doing that for two weeks now,” Elias says. “You should get on with it.”

“I know, I know. Even?” Adam asks.

Even shakes himself out of his reverie. “Hm?”

“Do you have any tips?”

“Not really,” Even says.

“How did you do it, then?” Mikael asks. “Could be good for future reference.”

They all move around until they’re on the ground in a half-circle in front of Even, Mikael even giving up his place on the swing to sit between Yousef and Mutta.

“What is this, story time?” Even asks, feeling a smile grow.

“Yep,” Adam says. “Better make it good, since you’re the director and all.”

“I think love doctor is more appropriate here,” Mutta says with a wink.

“Good call,” Adam says, turning back to Even. “Better make it good, mister love doctor.”

“Shouldn’t it be doctor love doctor?” Elias asks.

“Please save us,” Yousef says, his hands begging. “Please, Even.”

Even laughs. “Alright, alright. You can fight about my title later.”

“Maybe like a wrestling thing?” Adam says. “Our clothes are all messed up anyway.”

“No way am I letting you wrestle me, you almost broke my collarbone last time,” Elias snorts.

“That was by accident and you know it.”

“Better be. Remember how mad papa Bakkoush was? Damn.” Mutta says. “And that was before he knew that Sana was the referee.”

“Guys,” Even says. “You have ten seconds to clear the space or be quiet.”

“Librarian love doctor,” Mutta whispers. “Specialising in shushing people and giving them romantic advice.”

“That could work,” Adam whispers back.

Mikael rolls his eyes, shooting an exasperated smile at Even. “Just start, that’ll shut them up.”

“Okay, so,” Even says. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. I just asked him if we could talk and then I was like ‘so I told my friends I’m pansexual’ and he was like ‘that’s great’ and I was like ‘also, I’m in love with you’ and then he kissed me.”

The reactions are even better than expected.

“That is the most badass thing you’ve ever done,” Adam says.

“Just like that? Oh my god,” Yousef says. “That’s amazing.”

Mutta’s cheering, Mikael is giving him a round of applause and Elias is looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“No way were you that cool,” Elias says. “How scared were you, honest.”

“Terrified,” Even says, making them all calm down. “I didn’t know if he was gonna, like… pity me or something. Ask me to move out, maybe, I don’t know.”

Mutta scoots closer to pull Even’s head down on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have let you do that alone.”

“What were you going to do, be in the room with us?” Even says, trying for a joke.

“Yeah, if you wanted me to,” Mutta says simply.

The rest of them agree, nodding along as if it’s a surety, them all being cramped in Even’s room to listen to his love confession. It warms him, creating yet another sense of belonging, one that’s been there for a long time but being doubted by his brain from time to time.

It’s nice to know that they’re adding rocks to that foundation faster than his thoughts can take them away.

They end up in a pile of a group hug, as they usually do. None of them go home until way after nightfall, following each other home in the dark of the night.

 

*

 

It’s a nondescript building, a few windows in the brick walls, a boring, beige reception area and a few uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. Even’s okay with all of that, but he’s worried about the fact that Linn isn’t speaking to him, hasn’t been since he met up with her outside uni to take the bus together.

“Do you know anything about who you’re seeing?” He asks, just to try and get her talking, get her out of her head enough so that she can share some of the thoughts in there.

She shakes her head.

“I think that’s standard though, especially since it’s just a regular check up and not, like, a therapist,” Even says. “When I first went, way back when, I think that’s what happened. You get to know the therapist quite well but this first person is just for the referral, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Linn looks like she’s listening, but she doesn’t acknowledge his words. They’re quiet for a while, watching as a young mother comes in with her son, how he runs for the play area and loudly starts constructing a tower out of Lego.

“What if they don’t think I’m sick?” Linn asks, her eyes still set on the other side of the room. “What if I walk in there, and then they just… don’t believe me.”

There are a million things Even could say, but he thinks any objections or challenges to the words are ones Linn has already thought of herself, so instead he says, “Then we go to the next doctor. And then the next one. And the next one.”

Linn nods, looking a little uncertain but repeats the words. “We’ll go to the next one.”

 

Twenty minutes later, it's been made clear that they won’t have to.

 

Even drops of Linn at her friend’s house, opting to walk home from there even though it takes him the better part of an hour.

He comes through the door and hangs up his coat before starting to look for Isak. He doesn’t want to just call out for him in case Isak is in the middle of a project because if so, it’s better if Even just gives him a kiss and then lets him be until he’s finished.

Turns out, Even needn’t worry since Isak is sitting in the middle of his bed, gesticulating energetically to whomever he’s Skyping with. He’s got his big, noise cancelling headphones on which makes him unaware of how loudly he’s speaking.

“I know, it’s amazing! I found it in this essay my teacher told me about. No, no, not her.” Isak laughs, his eyes crinkling. “Another one, yeah. Mhm. Oh.”

His eyes have found Even, his smile mellowed into something softer. The person on the other line must have spoken, because Isak focuses back on them briefly, “Yeah, it is. I will, hang on.”

He pulls the headphones off, shifting the laptop slightly. “Um, okay so please don’t be mad.”

Even doesn’t think that’d be possible in any scenario concerning Isak, but he nods his promise anyway.

“So, you know how I got to borrow this book?” Isak holds up the book in question, the title of it still as uninviting to Even as when his dad first handed it to him.

Even looks from the book to Isak and back again. He sighs. “Please don’t tell me you’re Skyping with my dad.”

Isak looks very innocent. He also doesn’t say anything for fifteen straight seconds.

Even puts his head in his hands. “Noooooo. Really?”

Isak turns the computer around with a sheepish smile. Even’s dad is waving frantically on the screen. He’s saying something, but Even can’t hear him until Isak unplugs the headphones and the room is suddenly filled with his father’s voice.

“And so we thought, why not just take this discussion over Skype, because it’s so much easier when you can see each other, and then we started talking about physics and I realized how much of your childhood actually can be described in terms of physics. That’s pretty cool, isn’t it?”

Even breathes out very carefully. His dad looks a little too happy, which usually means there’s something embarrassing on the horizon, most likely on behalf of Even’s dignity. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know. Skateboards and stuff,” his dad says with a broad smile. “Did you know that the velocity of falling-“

“Okay, okay. Thank you,” Even says, holding up a hand to stop the flood of words.

“Do you still have the scar on your knee?” His dad asks.

It’s Even’s turn to wave at the screen, frantically sending Isak signals to end the call. “Bye bye now. Talk to you later.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going. Oh Isak, feel free to call me about this any time so we can continue our conversation,” His dad says, ploughing on, “or you can just come by the house, we’d love to have you for dinner. You can even bring your skater boyfriend, if you’d like."

It’s hard to tell who blushes more at that particular pearl of conversation, but it’s Isak who finds his footing long enough to say a polite goodbye before ending the call.

Even can hear the rustling of the wind in the trees outside, a dog yapping on a side street. The window is closed.

The silence almost gets to the point of excruciating before Isak breaks it with words too calculated with caution. “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable that I talk to him. I don’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” Even says. He doesn’t even believe his own words despite knowing that they’re true, so he tries again. “I just know that he likes to tell embarrassing stories about me and there are some I really don’t want you to hear. Like, no one needs to hear about me slapping Santa when I was three, it’s just… you know. Awkward.”

“We didn’t talk about you that much,” Isak says, tracing the keyboard, connecting all the keys with his fingertip. “There’s this chapter I didn’t really understand and he said that if I wanted to, we could discuss it. I don’t know, it was just nice to… have a parent explain something to me, wanting to teach me.”

He shrugs, obvious in his discomfort. “It’s been a while,” he says, his voice quiet.

Even has to swallow a couple of times to get rid of all the stupid, meaningless words clogging it up. He walks up to the bed, Isak scooting over a little so that there’s room for Even to sit right next to him, sides aligning.

Even holds out his hand for Isak to take, should he want it. Isak does without a second’s hesitation, bringing them to lie on his thigh, squeezing Even’s hand.

“He’s always wanted me to get into the theoretical side of science,” Even says. “But I was never interested, so he ended up with all these shelves of books and no one to talk about them with.”

He places a kiss on Isak’s hair, breathing him in. “Until you.”

Isak brings their hands up to press against his heart, resting them there and Even loves him, loves him, loves him.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Isak brings the lightness back. “Did you really slap Santa?”

“Well…”

“Oh my god, you did,” Isak says, breaking out in surprised laughter. “Why?”

“He didn’t bring a treat for my grandpa’s dog,” Even says, hiding his face in Isak’s hair. “And so I asked him about it and he said that dogs can’t be good enough to deserve a Christmas gift so I kinda… slapped him.”

“In the face?”

“No, I could only reach his knee,” Even admits. “I was quite short for a three-year-old.”

“You caught up quite well,” Isak says, patting Even on the head. “Well done.”

“Thanks,” Even says. “We can go over for dinner whenever you want, you know.”

“Yeah?” Isak says, still sounding a little unsure.

“Mhm. You can look at all the books, and then we can make out in my old room,” Even says, kissing Isak’s temple. “Never had a boy in there.”

“Never? Really?” Isak asks, twisting a little so his legs are thrown over Even’s. “I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true,” Even says. “I’ve only had a girlfriend before, you know that.”

“Well, yeah, but you never had a date with someone and brought them home?” Isak asks, his eyes calm and happy as Even runs a hand up and down his leg.

“Nope. I didn’t want to bring someone home unless it was serious.”

Isak’s smile is the best thing Even’s ever seen, especially when it’s completely unguarded. “And I’m serious?”

“Like a heart attack,” Even says, kissing the tip of Isak’s nose, making him scrunch it up. “Less deadly though.”

“How dare you?” Isak asks in mock outrage. “I have very sharp elbows, they could kill a man, no problem.”

“Of course,” Even says, “I forgot about them, sorry.”

“You better be,” Isak says, finally kissing him.

It should be a familiarity by now, but Even’s brain hasn’t gotten the memo yet, going into a full-on freak out every time it happens, every time Isak allows it to happen. That’s probably a thought he needs to work on in the future, but for now Even lets himself enjoy it, proving his brain wrong in thinking this wouldn’t happen again.

Isak still has their hands against his heart, and Even tells himself that he can feel it beat through the layers of fabric but he knows he can’t. It’s alright though, he knows it’s there, strong as ever.

 

*

 

Even wakes up to Isak burrowing deeper into his side, sleepily tugging Even’s arm around his waist. It’s dark enough in the room for Even not to be able to make out anything but sound, the impatient huff from Isak when he has to throw away the pillow that’s ended up squeezed between them, the rustle of the duvet as it moves under Isak’s ministrations.

Even pulls him closer, his entire body reforming to fit alongside Isak’s. “You okay?” He asks, his voice gravelly and too loud in the hushed room.

“Too far away,” Isak mumbles, a hand sneaking out from under the sheets to worm its way under Even’s back, hugging him closer to Isak.

If there were any part of Even that didn’t already belong to Isak, this would be the moment of surrender.

“I’m right here,” he whispers, after Isak’s settled down.

Isak makes a content noise, a cold nose pressing into the sensitive spot right between Even’s neck and shoulder.

Even buries his face in Isak’s hair, focusing on nothing but breathing for a few seconds. He can feel Isak slip back into sleep, his head growing heavy on Even’s shoulder. There’s a bony knee poking into the side of Even’s thigh, a breath tickling Even’s neck and a few snuffles a little bit too close to Even’s ear.

A heartbeat right next to his. A boy lying against him, breathing against him, giving himself over in his sleep without a second thought, trusting Even completely.

In this room, in this flat, in this life, he has Isak and Isak has him.

It’s nothing short of everything.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it! i want to say a massive thank you to [tess aka the world's best beta](http://modertheresa.tumblr.com) for helping me through all nine chapters and being an all-round badass <3<3<3 
> 
> i also want to say a humongous thank you to everyone who has read, liked, commented and talked about this fic, it's been such a help in getting the writing done in time and finishing the whole thing still liking it and enjoying working on it. again, i'm sorry this last chapter was almost a week late, but i hope it wasn't too long a wait. xxx
> 
> you can find [the tumblr post for this chapter right here](http://icelandcurry.tumblr.com/post/163564647082/a-mental-archive-of-love-unwanted-chapter-9)

**Author's Note:**

> And we're off! I'll try and stick to a weekly update schedule, as most of it is already written and only needs editing. Feel free to comment or talk to me on my [tumblr](http://icelandcurry.tumblr.com)


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